Behind the Scenes: An Affair of the Heart
by GreenField
Summary: A sideshow to my fanfiction 'An Affair of the Heart',with all the bits that I never got the chance to include or didn't think of until afterwards.It would probably be necessary for you to read the original first,but you don't have to.Please R&R! Cover image by Klar DeviantArt .
1. Through the Window

**A/N: I thought I'd do this instead of adding the George and Elizabeth scenes into Forbidden Love's Legacy, just to make it all easier to read. These are all the pieces that I wrote that didn't fit, or that I thought of after the story was finished. Plus I miss George and Elizabeth so much. So I hope you like it, please read and review! Set when Elizabeth and George are children.**

"And the princess and the prince lived happily ever after..." Elizabeth Hollington whispered to herself, making her limp-bodied ragdolls dance across the bed. She glanced towards the door anxiously, waiting for her mother and father to come along and yell at her for not being asleep. She much preferred the nights when she and Aurora slept at Hever, when Anne and Mary would be on one side of them and George on the other.

Elizabeth heard a crash from outside the window and jumped out of the bed, clutching her dolls tightly. She ran to the window, a pattering of small, soft feet, and gazed out into the night. All she could see was the silver glow from the full moon.

"Bess!"

Elizabeth opened her mouth wide to scream, but a thirteen year old George Boleyn clapped his hand tightly over her mouth until the fear in her round blue eyes had subsided. He grinned at her.

"You should be sleeping" he said sternly, "Your Mama and Papa would be very angry if they knew you were awake"

"I don't like sleeping" scowled Elizabeth. George laughed at his nine year old best friend as she glared up at him. She was so mature, for a nine year old – when she wanted to be.

"Neither do I. You don't see the stars if you sleep" he added. Elizabeth looked out of the window with wide eyed, searching for the stars that George spoke of.

"Do you want to sit down?" she asked in a stilted, formal way – she had obviously been watching her mother greet visitors. George, struggling not to laugh, sat on the edge of her bed. She sat cross legged next to him, hiding the dolls under her pillow. She might be only nine years old, but she loved George as devotedly as she possibly could have done. He, however, treated her as his very best friend, but had never expressed any more interest in her.

"What do you want?" she asked, and then he heard it, that small hint that she was still a child – the high, imperious way that she spoke when she needed an answer.

"I came to tell you something very important" George said solemnly. Elizabeth nodded.

"What is it?" she asked crossly after a few moments of silence. George didn't want to tell her.

"I have to go away for a little while" he said. She tipped her head to one side, and he thought for a moment that she seemed calm, until her saw the pale luminosity of her face.

"You won't be at Hever with us anymore?" she frowned, trying to understand, "Why?"

"I just – I have to go away" he was trying to explain simply, so as not to scare her, but her lips trembled.

"To court?" she asked, still confused.

"No. I am going away to a school – to a place called Oxford"

"But you can have school with us at Hever" Elizabeth said, hurt. George shook his head.

"I have to go to Oxford. Sorry, Bess"

"But you're supposed to be my best friend" she said, sounding angrier.

"I am your best friend. I'm going to write lots and lots of letters to you, and you can write letters to me – so we can still be friends. You like writing letters, don't you? You write lots of letters to Mary when she goes to France. And she will be staying there soon, and then Anne will go, so you need to write lots of letters. So I can be your practice"

"Alright" Elizabeth agreed slowly, "I like letters"

"Good. I'm leaving in the morning –you can come and say goodbye"

"I don't want to" she replied instantly. He wondered for a moment if she hated him now – if she knew what hate felt like at nine years of age – but then he realised that despite still being a child, she knew what goodbyes were, and she didn't like them.

"That's fine. You must try to go to sleep now, or you won't be awake enough to write to me" George said, giving her a smile. She climbed into her bed, and he squeezed her tiny paw of a hand.

He went over to the window and swung himself out of it, getting a grip on the vines with his feet, toes sliding between the brickwork. Elizabeth waited until she heard the thud of George's feet on the ground below, then ran to the window, gripping the golden brick sill so hard that her knuckles went white.

"Goodbye" she whispered loudly. George turned and grinned at her, waving.

"Bye Bess!" he called quietely back. She watched him run off into the night. She was a child, but she knew that this was the worst thing that could possibly happen to her.

"I love you!" she called out suddenly, as loud as she possibly could, in her high little-girl voice.

"Elizabeth! What is the matter with you! Get to bed, this instant!"


	2. Maybe Magdalene

**A/N: This one is set while Elizabeth is pregnant with Margaret and they are at Hever. Something I came up with after I had named Margaret, and I kinda wish I had gone with this idea after all. Please read and review!**

"So, if it is a boy?" George asked, his hand laying over Elizabeth's full belly. He grinned and she winced as the child kicked.

"George" said Elizabeth instantly, "I shall tell everyone that I have named him after Saint George, no-one can object to that"

"I like it" George replied, half-laughing at her determination. They were seated under the cedar tree at Hever, watching the sun set in a haze of gold, pink and red. George held Elizabeth cradled against his chest, his hand caressing her belly.

"I have an idea for a girl's name" said Elizabeth all of a sudden. George frowned, and she turned to look at him, smiling.

"But we chose a name already. We said we would call her Margaret, after the King's sister" he protested. Elizabeth sighed.

"I know. But I thought of a new name"

"Well?" George asked, slightly annoyed by Elizabeth's ever changing tastes.

"Magdalene"

"Magdalene?" George repeated, mouth hanging open in shock, "You would like to name our daughter after a famous whore?"

"Yes" said Elizabeth firmly. George raised an eyebrow.

"Bess, no. I shan't have my daughter be named for a whore"

"I am a whore, am I not?" Elizabeth retorted sharply. George winced, noticing the anger in her voice. He had forgotten how sensitive she was about being called a whore.

"Well...yes, I suppose so" George sighed, cursing his own stupidity, "You are more of a mistress than a whore"

"Are you trying to take back what you said about whores?" Elizabeth jumped on the opportunity of getting her own way.

"I don't recall saying anything about whores, exactly..."George mumbled, "But alright, I take back whatever I may or may not have said"

"Good" Elizabeth smiled smugly, "So we shall call her Magdalene"

"But the boys will take advantage of her, Bess!" George protested furiously. Elizabeth started to laugh.

"My love, if she looks anything like Alice does the boys will take advantage anyway" she giggled. George smiled grudgingly.

"I suppose I shall have to run them all through with my sword" he taunted. Elizabeth laughed again.

"I can make you do anything" she teased in return, smirking. George rolled his eyes.

"I do not recall actually agreeing to this"

"Then we shall make a compromise" Elizabeth decided, taking his hand and playing with the rings there, "We shall wait until the child is born. If it is a boy then we can call it George without any discussion. If it is a girl then we can see whether it suits the name Margaret or the name Magdalene better. Do you agree?"

"Very well" George rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead, "It is a very good thing that I love you so dearly"

"I'm going to call her Magdalene" Elizabeth muttered under her breath.

"Over my dead body" George muttered back.


	3. An Anniversary

**A/N: This one is set on the first anniversary of George's death, with Elizabeth and her kids going to visit his grave. I'm going to use random song lyrics because I love this song, and this musical, and it totally fits the situation.**

_There's a time for us, __  
__Some day a time for us, __  
__Time together with time to spare, __  
__Time to learn, time to care, __  
__Some day! ___

_Somewhere. __  
__We'll find a new way of living, __  
__We'll find a way of forgiving __  
__Somewhere . . ._

"Thank you for doing this, Charles" Elizabeth smiled at the Tower guard who had become her friend. He tried not to look at the tremble of her lips or the redness around her bright blue eyes, leaning over to peer at the bundle in her arms instead.

"Is this the child that you were carrying, or did you marry again without telling me?" Charles tried a joke, and managed to crack a smile into Elizabeth's set face.

"Not likely. I am still married, you know, just separated from my husband. This is the child I carried when you last saw me. A boy, like I told him. George" as she said the name, she had to gulp back tears.

"He will grow up to be very handsome. And look, you must be Alice and Margaret, whom I have heard so much about. Alice, you look ever so like your father, and Margaret, you look like your mother" Charles smiled at the two pale-faced girls. Alice tilted her head and looked at him.

"Has anyone else been here?" she asked, her voice almost stern. He shook his head.

"No, I am afraid not, Miss Alice" Charles said forlornly, and he saw the anger light up her eyes and still-young face.

"They should have" she growled under her breath, and Elizabeth smiled, placing a hand on her elder daughter's shoulder.

"I am proud of your determination, sweetheart, but don't frighten poor Charles, he is helping us" she scolded, and Alice rolled her eyes, reminding Charles strongly of his own daughter.

"You will look out for us?" inquired Elizabeth anxiously as they hovered in the doorway of the chapel where George was buried. Charles nodded. Elizabeth pulled her son tighter to her chest. Alice and Margaret linked hands, their peaked faces chalky white.

Elizabeth stood over the spot that she remembered from a year ago to that very day. She remembered following the men who carried the coffin to that very place, weeping as she watched them, flinging in the scrap of lace that George had so often worn, her favour, into that wooden box with her lover's headless body. She swallowed back tears, trying to be strong for her girls.

"Is this it, Mama?" asked Margaret, staring down at the ground beneath her feet. Elizabeth nodded.

"Yes, sweetheart. And over there, I believe, is where your Aunt Anne is buried" Elizabeth gestured to a slab just inches away from where George lay. At least he and Anne were together.

She heard a tiny, choked squeak and turned to see Alice beside her. She had let go of Margaret and was sobbing into her hands, trying to hide her sadness from her mother. Elizabeth reached out the hand that was not anchoring her son and pulled Alice towards her. Margaret burrowed into the other side of her mother, starting to cry also. Elizabeth's strength broke at the sound of their weeping, a flood of memories rushing back to her head, a thousand kisses, a million nights, a dozen red roses, a hundred gifts, a golden mask, a dance in Calais, a scream of pleasure in the dead of night...

She was weeping so much that she did not realise that both Alice and Margaret had managed to compose themselves and were laying their flowers on George's unconventional grave. They were listening to their mother's wild sobs with something like fear in their eyes.

"Do you want us to wait outside, Mama?" asked Alice. Elizabeth shook her head.

"No, no! Oh, ignore me, my darlings, I am just being silly" Elizabeth sniffled, wiping her eyes. Alice shook her head that time, once again gripping Margaret's hand.

"It isn't being silly. You probably want to speak with him alone, we understand"

"When did you get so grown up, Alice?" Elizabeth replied with a wry smile.

"When I had to be" Alice answered simply, with a weak smile of her own. She and Margaret looked back at where George lay one last time, before walking out, linked, the black curls gleaming beside the russet waves.

Elizabeth looked down at where George lay. She sat beside him, cradling her son. Despite all the noise around him the baby was calm, awake, his dark eyes gazing into her blue ones.

"Well, well, George, did you see that? Our Alice, all grown up now. I can't believe how strong she is – she is definitely your daughter. I'm not strong anymore" she laid a palm flat on the ground, remembering that last time she had done so it was coated in his blood, speaking only to the man that she had loved, not caring who saw or heard her.

"And look at this, George, look – our son. Did I not tell you that he would be a boy? He so looks like you, and I named him for you – but of course, you know that. You were there when I gave him life, I am sure of it, sure that I felt you there. Maybe I am just mad"

"We will see each other again one day, I know it. You would think that with each day it gets easier, especially as I have that thought – but every day I break a little more. If I did not have the children I would have joined you a year ago today, because it hurts so, George" Elizabeth realised that she was crying again and forced herself to stop, gulping back every wrenching cry, "I love you"

When she walked outside it was raining again, just like that day, the day he died. She thanked Charles. As she took the hand of her youngest daughter and the elder one linked on, a tiny stream on sunlight forced its way through the thick grey cloud, and Elizabeth smiled.

"See that? He knows we are here"

**A/N: Please review!**


	4. Dancing Lessons

**A/N: Set during a visit to Hever before Margaret is born – around early 1528, I'm not too sure. Just a bit of larking around from the characters, because the last chapter was so depressing.**

_I could have danced all night,  
I could have danced all night.  
And still have begged for more.  
I could have spread my wings,  
And done a thousand things I've never done before._

"Left, right, left, and up!" Elizabeth ordered, sweeping her young daughter up into the air. Alice giggled irresistibly, falling back down to the ground with an extreme amount of grace, and giving a twirl as she landed. Mary staggered under Catherine's weight and her daughter slid to the floor with a loud thud. She and her mother laughed.

"I like dancing!" Alice announced brightly, rushing over to Catherine, her cousin and playmate, and grabbing her hands. The two children jigged up and down the room, their laughter like the pealing of bells. Mary and Elizabeth watched the two girls with pride.

"Will I be able to dance without falling over, one day?" asked Catherine anxiously as the two girls skidded to a breathless halt, faces pink and shiny.

"Of course you will, my sweetheart" Mary promised, hugging her golden haired child, though she gave Elizabeth a doubtful look over the top of Catherine's head. Elizabeth snorted with laughter.

"Why don't you try again with Catherine?" she suggested quickly to Alice, "Maybe Catherine will find the dancing easier with someone the same size as her"

Alice nodded solemnly and held out her fat little hands to Catherine, who took them with a gap-toothed smile. As the two girls began to dance, Elizabeth felt a pair of strong, warm arms slide around her waist. She gave a squeak of surprise, and George grinned at her.

"Good day" he murmured, kissing her cheek, and she smiled, "What have you been doing?"

"Teaching our daughter and your niece how to dance" Elizabeth told him, still smiling, "Alice has inherited your light footsteps but Catherine has taken rather a few tumbles, has she not, Mary?"

Mary smiled ruefully, "She certainly does not take after her father"

Alice, spotting George, broke away from Catherine and rushed to her father, beaming.

"Papa, did you see me dance?" she squealed. George hugged her.

"I did, darling" he lied, grinning briefly at Elizabeth. Alice looked between them thoughtfully.

"What is that dance you do?" she asked. Elizabeth frowned at George.

"What dance? We do lots of dances"

"The one that is your favourite to do with Papa. The Vol"

"Oh! No, Alice, you mean the _Volte_" Elizabeth corrected.

"But we cannot teach you that dance. You have to be much older" George cut in quickly.

"No, I don't want to learn it. I want to see it. Show me" Alice demanded. Mary giggled. George looked at Elizabeth, who blushed.

"All I can say is that it's a good thing that it's nearly time for bed" she muttered under her breath. George snorted with laughter. Catherine ran over to her mother and Alice, and George and Elizabeth took the floor.

They forgot that their daughter was watching them. They forgot that Mary and her Catherine were there. They forgot that anyone was there – they felt completely alone. All that there was left in the world was the two of them, they way they smelt and the way it felt when their bodies touched.

As the music drew to its close, George swept Elizabeth up into the air, where she giggled in loud delight, and then drew her back down to the ground, every inch of her pressing against him as she slid daintily to the floor.

The sound of slow children's applause brought them back to reality. Alice beamed.

"Good!" she praised eagerly. Elizabeth and George smiled distractedly at her.

"All this dancing has given me a headache" Elizabeth mumbled weakly, "I think I shall have to go to bed"

"I had better come with you, Bess – it would be terrible if you were alone when you feel so ill with your headache" George added quickly. Mary looked between the two of them, deeply amused.

"Yes, I am sure that would be best. I shall put the girls to bed" she agreed.

They kissed their daughter and ran up the stairs as fast as their legs would carry them.

"You aren't supposed to run if you have a headache" Alice huffed crossly.

**A/N: Please review!**


	5. Bloodlust

**A/N: A scene I didn't include because I hate it when George and Elizabeth's relationship isn't perfect. But oh well, not everything can be perfect. I'm actually quite proud of this, I just hope you like it! Please read and review! Set just after George marries Jane, and don't hate on Elizabeth because she's jealous, I'd be jealous too! Xxxx**

_If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free  
Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart  
Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart  
My fingers claw your skin, try to tempt my way in  
__- Howl, Florence + The Machine_

"Look, I got here early!" George declared with pride, slipping through the door and into Elizabeth's room. She was sitting on her bed, knees tucked under her chin, gazing up at the moon, remembering the night that George had left her as a child. The silver light fluttered in shimmers over her face, making her eyes glitter and sparkle.

"Hm" she muttered in a weak imitation of a reply. George frowned at her, half in and half out of his shirt. He pulled it off and walked slowly towards her, but at the look in her eyes he did not dare get too close.

"Bess, what is it?" he asked nervously. She laughed, slightly hysterical.

"Nothing at all" she said sweetly. He frowned all the more.

"Bess, what-"

"It was so nice of you to sneak away from your wife. Unless you have a curfew? Maybe you shouldn't leave her at all, she might rage at you" Elizabeth snapped, her voice cold and sarcastic.

"What is this? I'm with you now, Bess, I don't understand" George replied, bemused.

"Oh yes, you're finally with me! But what about last week, George, and the week before? You went away for a whole week with that bitch, to your home, to Hever, to OUR place! Did you sit under the cedar tree with her like we do? Did you watch the sunset? Did you lie with her in OUR bed?" Elizabeth hissed furiously, "Did you enjoy it, George?"

"Bess, my father insisted, I had no choice! We did nothing, I swear. We spent one night together to consummate our marriage and no more time than that. I hunted with the servants, and heaven only knows what she did, I did not even ask her!" George retorted, "This is ridiculous. You know it is only you. It is always you"

"Are you sure? Because we have barely done anything for what, a month, now? Maybe you just think I am ugly now. And I understand, I mean, I've just had a child, but this is unfair..."

"Elizabeth! You're beautiful. Where is all of this coming from? You know I love you" George protested. Elizabeth rose, but did not look at him as she paced.

"I am so tired" she whispered, "I am so sick and tired of this"

"Of what?" George asked, alarmed.

"Of everything. Of being a dirty secret, or being seen as a dirty whore by the people who do know. I can't stand it"

"But Bess, this is how it has to be, if you want us to be together"

"And I do! I love you more than anything in the world. You and Alice and my friends, you are all I have. I have no family aside from Aurora" Elizabeth had started to cry, "But I hate being hidden, meeting in secret places, in darkened corners. I hate it that our daughter is a bastard" she had walked a little closer to him and he reached out to take her hands. They were cold and trembling.

"This is all I can give you" he murmured gently. She stared at him, and for a moment he thought that her anger had subsided.

"IT'S NOT ENOUGH!" she screamed, yanking her hands out of his grasp. She swung away from him with such force that her hands flew wildly round and raked a series of thin, red cuts onto his bare chest with the long nails there. She froze, breathing heavily, so pale. He let out a howl of pain.

They stared at each other, breathing heavily, him wincing in pain, she frozen in horror. She wiped her eyes slowly.

"I'm sorry" she gasped, and he had a feeling she wasn't just talking about the scratches.

"It wasn't your fault" he lied, smiling tentatively at her.

"I didn't mean those things I said" she whispered tremulously, still gazing at him, imploring him to understand with her still-damp eyes.

"Yes, you did. You always say what you mean. That's one of the reasons why I love you"

She bit her lip carefully, chewing colour back into her suddenly pale lips, "You're bleeding" she mumbled. Elizabeth reached out to touch the scratches that she had made hesitantly.

"You can scratch me back" she offered, smiling a little. George shook his head.

"My nails are not long enough" he contradicted. Elizabeth looked away from him, then looked back seductively from under her eyelashes, her lips curving into her sweetest smile.

"Then we could find something else to do instead?" she offered, grinning now, "Presuming that those scratches don't hurt too badly?"

"Am I forgiven, then?" he asked, reaching out to cup her face in his hand. She leaned into his palm.

"Of course. Do you forgive me?"

"Always"


	6. Lots of Babies

**A/N:This one is once again set about a year before Margaret is born, just because I love Alice and she is far too smart for her own good! Plus these song lyrics always make me laugh! Please read and review! The last chapter was quite heavy so I thought we could use something light and heavy for this one!**

_I wanna have your babies  
You're serious like crazy  
I wanna have your babies  
I see 'em springing up like daisies – Natasha Bedingfield, I wanna have your babies_

"Careful, Alice!" Elizabeth called anxiously as her little daughter wobbled precariously in the shallow waters in which she was paddling. Alice giggled loudly and ignored her mother, wading deeper into the water.

"Alice!" George called, his voice sterner than that of Elizabeth. Alice froze, scowling, and turned to look at them with a pout on her full pink lips.

"Do I have to come out now?" she asked, disappointed. George nodded. Alice stumbled out of the water, a lily pad clinging to her plum coloured gown.

"Oh, look at you, Alice, your gown is all wet!" Elizabeth sighed, but affectionately, pulling her daughter onto her lap and dampening her own gown. George took Elizabeth's hand and looked at her and Alice, a contented smile on his lips.

Alice suddenly stopped gazing sulkily into the water and wriggled her small body so that she could face both her mother and father. Her head was tilted to one side, her expression very serious.

"Can I ask a question?" she asked. George grinned.

"You already did. But go on" he pressed, curious.

"How are babies made?" she inquired, so solemn and thoughtful. Elizabeth snorted both at the expression of horror on George's face and the question itself.

"Ask your mother" said George as soon as he was able to speak. Elizabeth glared at him.

"I don't know" she lied, "Ask your father"

"Oh, believe me, she knows exactly what to do. Ask your mother"

"I am asking both of you!" Alice snapped crossly, a scowl once again marring her pretty face. Elizabeth and George exchanged a glance.

"We shall tell you when you're older" Elizabeth said cautiously, knowing what Alice's reaction would be.

"No!" she demanded, "You have to tell me. Because Catherine told me what she thinks, but I think she must be wrong, because it all sounds very silly"

George paled, "What did Catherine tell you?" he squeaked, his voice full of dread.

"Well, she said that you have to get married first, and then you have to say that you're going to bed –"

"I don't like where this is going" George muttered to Elizabeth.

"And then you have to take off all your clothes, and then she doesn't know what happens next, or she wouldn't tell me, I don't know what it was" Alice continued, looking at them both, "But I said that she must be wrong, because you aren't married"

"No, we're not" Elizabeth mumbled, and the look she gave George was full of disappointment. He squeezed her hand.

"Why not?" Alice asked, and despite the fact that Elizabeth was relieved to have a subject change, she wished that the subject had not been changed to one that wounded her so horribly. She looked down at her hand, intertwined with George's, instead of speaking, leaving him to answer.

"We want to be married very, very much, but we are already married to other people"

"Why?"

"Because our mothers and fathers made us marry people that we do not like" George explained simply. Alice looked shocked.

"Will you do that to me?" she asked anxiously. Before George could reply, Elizabeth had shaken her head firmly.

"No" she answered instantly, "I would never wish this on anyone else, least of all my own flesh and blood"

"So, if you are not married, then why are you still allowed to have a baby?" Alice was confused.

"We are not allowed. We would get into a lot of trouble if anyone found out. Everyone at court thinks that you are the baby that you mother had with her husband Phillip" George told her.

Alice nodded, "Okay" she said, "But was Catherine right about how to make babies?"

"Sort of" Elizabeth mumbled.

"When I am older, will you tell me properly? Because I want lots of babies"

George spluttered, choking on nothing but air, "God help me, no!"

"Of course, sweetheart" Elizabeth contradicted, glancing at George, "I want lots of babies too"

George regained his senses and smiled at her, "I'm sure we can manage that"

Elizabeth giggled, "Now, come along, Alice. We must go and find your Aunt Mary – I want to have a word with you about what she lets Catherine tell you"

"So do I" George mumbled darkly, putting his arm around Elizabeth and walking with her, Alice clinging onto his hand.


	7. Grymston Manor

**A/N: George was given a place called Grymston Manor as a gift from the King in July 1524, but I never ended up including it in the fanfiction. So here it is, George taking Elizabeth to visit his new house during the summer progress. Please read and review!**

_And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life  
It's like I just stepped outside  
When everything was going right  
And I know just why you could not  
Come along with me  
But this was not your dream  
But you always believe in me – Home, Michael Buble_

"Where are we going?" Elizabeth asked, a whining tone to her voice, "You know how I hate surprises"

"It's a good surprise, I promise" said George firmly. Elizabeth huffed.

"Are we going to Hever?" she guessed. George snorted.

"Do you have no sense of direction whatsoever? We never even came anywhere near to Hever" he taunted. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and said nothing, though she was blushing a little. She flung back her head to gaze up into the sun, trying to figure out which way they were headed from its position in the cloudless blue sky. She continued to gaze skyward, her little chestnut palfrey trotting calmly onwards beside George's raven black stallion. George turned to look at her and smiled at the confusion on her face as she squinted into the suns bright golden rays, taking the opportunity to study her as closely as he could; the arch of her pale throat, the flame of her hair, the ice fire in her eyes, the dazzling glint of golden brocade on her green riding habit.

She felt his eyes and her and turned to smile at him, blinking away the imprints that the sunlight had left on her vision.

"Why are you staring?" she laughed self-consciously, looking away from him and hiding under her waves of hair.

"Why not?" he retorted and she giggled and looked back at him, smiling shyly.

After another hour of riding, they finally came across a beautiful manor house, not overlarge, but large enough for greeting visitors, hidden in a widespread green field and hidden by little clusters of lush, leafy trees. The red brickwork reminded Elizabeth of the King's establishment, Hampton Court Palace.

"What is this place?" Elizabeth asked, bemused.

"This is my new manor house. The King granted it to me just last month, and I was hoping you would want to help me form an opinion on it" George explained. A smile spread across Elizabeth's face, and she leapt down from her palfrey, George not far behind her. A stable boy came rushing up to them to take the reins of the horses.

"I'm glad I told a dozen lies to my husband to be here, now" she grinned, "Though I'm pretty sure the only thing you want me to form an opinion on is the bed"

George laughed, "That might have been part of my plan, yes" he agreed. Elizabeth looked around.

"Well, it looks nice enough" she said, holding out her hand for George to take, "Shall we go and look around?"

"Now now, you aren't allowed to give orders. This is my house" George protested as they started to walk up to the house. Elizabeth bit her lip, giving him a sidelong glance.

"Does that mean while we're here I have to do everything you tell me?" she asked, sounding annoyed by the idea.

"Yes" said George, but he was trying not to laugh, "But, I promise, they won't be things that you don't want to do"

"Alright" Elizabeth agreed with a shrug, "But can we hurry up? I think I'm dying of starvation"


	8. Oxford University

A/N: Set when George first met Francis Weston – they were best friends who went to Oxford together. This is the day when they finally discovered that they had the same taste in women...leading to a lot of later unhappiness for Francis and some post-death guilt from Elizabeth, as you probably know. Please read and review! And it also shows how Francis sort of corrupted George, because Elizabeth certainly wasn't his first!

_We bring the stars out,  
We bring the women and the cars and the cards out,  
Lets have a toast a celebration get a glass out,  
And we can do this until we pass out – Pass out, Tinie Tempah_

"Could you not be a bit more interesting?"Francis complained, yanking George's book of Latin translations from his hands, "Look, we are sitting right by the gates today"

"And?" George asked, raising an eyebrow. He snatched the book back but did not open it. Francis tutted and shook his head in despair.

"And it is market day. We shall get a whole parade of pretty merchant's daughters and whores come to peer into the great grandeur of Oxford University and it's handsome inhabitants" Francis explained, striking a pose. George snorted.

"No thank you" he retorted, opening the book once more. Francis gaped at him.

"You don't want to look at pretty girls?" he asked incredulously. George looked up at him, amused.

"No. I have someone that I hope to one day meet again, and when I do I shall marry her. She is too beautiful for comparison" he told his friend.

"Dear God, you fool! Listen to me – by the time you see her again, if she feels as you do and wants to marry you, despite all of that, she will undoubtedly have been plucked by someone other than yourself" Francis sighed sharply. George looked a little doubtful, but then he remembered how pretty Elizabeth had been as a little girl when he left her a few years ago, and how beautiful she would be now that she was thirteen, a young woman.

"And anyway, you cannot pretend that you have saved yourself for her. Do you remember the summer of your fifteenth year when we went out to the whorehouse? You cannot pretend that all you did with that pretty golden haired slut was play cards" Francis taunted. George sighed.

"I admit that you are right. I just hope that she will not be too disappointed in me. But I shall lie with no-one else until this summer when we meet again"

"What, not even her?" Francis asked under his breath, his eyes fixed on a girl with her face pressed to the bars of the gates. For a moment George squinted at the girl – that flaming hair, those so-scared blue eyes – and then surely, that girl beside her was Aurora?

"What about her?" he couldn't help asking – he was so sure that that girl was Elizabeth, much changed, so beautiful, and he was jealous of Francis' leering gaze.

"That is the sort of woman I like. I simply cannot resist a redhead, did you not know? They are said to be very passionate"

George gulped and had to quickly force the image in his head to the back of his mind to stop himself from going over to Elizabeth at that very moment and dragging her into Oxford with him.

"George? You have gone ever so pale" Francis said, a little worried, turning to look at his friend.

"I think that's her" George mumbled, "She just looks a little different"

"Oh" Francis looked quickly away from the redhead, though her image had already been imprinted in his mind, "Then what are you doing here? Go over there, man!"

George jumped up as though Francis had pushed him and started, dazed, toward the gate. As her neared he saw the girl that he thought might be Aurora grab Elizabeth's hand and say;

"Come on, Bess, he isn't there"

"But he said in his letters that he often sits outside in the sunshine with his friends" Elizabeth said plaintively, and then he knew for sure that it was her.

"Come on, we shall come again soon" the other girl said gently, steering Elizabeth away. George sprinted toward the gate.

"Elizabeth!" he called into the crowd. He saw her turn, her red hair flying behind her, but then she was swallowed by the crowd, and she was gone. George, defeated, walked back to Francis.

"You promise you won't talk about her like that again?" George asked weakly, but there was a threat implied.

Francis could not look at him, "I promise"


	9. Sketching

A/N: George and Elizabeth on one of their retreats to Hever, before Alice and Margaret are born. Hope you like it, please read and review!

_Just paint the picture of a perfect place  
They got it better than what anyone's told you  
They'll be the King of Hearts, and you're the Queen of Spades  
Then we'll fight for you like we were your soldiers – All the right moves, OneRepublic_

"This is boring" Elizabeth whined, laying on her stomach and gazing into the distant fields, "Can I draw you?"

"Draw me?" George snorted, "Why would you want to do that?"

"I don't know" Elizabeth shrugged, threading daisies through her fingers, "I like drawing"

"Alright then" George agreed. Elizabeth beamed, sitting up and pulling a square of parchment out of her bodice and a stick of charcoal from up her sleeve. George stared at her.

"Why have I never noticed that you had things hidden inside your gowns before?" he asked, bemused.

"Because you don't look at the lining of my gowns. You look at what the lining of my gowns cover up" she grinned in reply. George laughed and leaned back against a tree trunk, facing her. She smiled and began to sketch, her fingers turning black from the charcoal. She carefully drew every line and angle of his face, smiling as she did so, memorising all of his features off by heart, one by one.

"Done!" she announced after about half an hour, just when George had begun to fidget.

"Let me look!" George demanded, snatching the sketch from her grasp. He smiled to see himself copied perfectly onto the parchment, noticing that she had captured a sparkle in his eyes and a dimple in his cheek that he had not previously known was there.

"This is amazing, Bess" he said, proudly, handing it back. She blushed.

"Now let me draw you" George continued, taking a second piece of parchment from the wad that Elizabeth had produced and grabbing the charcoal stick.

"Oh, no!" Elizabeth shrieked, "You cannot sketch me like this, I look a terrible mess!"

George looked at her, noted the way that her hair was pulled into a loose plait, some strands breaking free and falling over her flushed, freckled face. Her lips were pulled back in a stunning smile, her simple pale green gown falling attractively off of her shoulders, showing an appealing amount of flesh.

"You look perfect" he said firmly, and began to draw. Elizabeth was shy at first, not looking at him, but she soon was gazing straight into his eyes with surprising confidence, once against lost in that dark, penetrating gaze.

"There" he said, showing her the drawing. Elizabeth blushed and smiled again.

"You made me more beautiful than I am" she mumbled, embarrassed. George shook his head, tucking the drawing inside his doublet and kissing her forehead.

"You are beautiful, you silly fool" he said, laughing and taking her hand, "Come, let's go and have supper"


	10. Exchanging Rings

A/N:Yes, I'm back! Exams are over so I'm finally allowed to update again, you have no idea how much of relief it is! Hope you like this chapter, this actually happens in the book version of this story that I am writing, although this is the first time I will have actually written it. I decided to include as one of these so that I could have some practise before writing the actual thing. Please read and review!

_He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring  
And said, marry me Juliet  
You'll never have to be alone  
I love you and that's all I really know – Love Story, Taylor Swift_

"Do you have to go?" Elizabeth whined, huddled in the tangled sheets of George's bed, beseeching him with stunning blue eyes. He looked away so as not to be drawn in by her pleading gaze.

"I have to. I was supposed to show these documents to the King yesterday, and as it is I chose you instead" George explained, grabbing a wad of parchment from the table.

"I should hope that you would choose me!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pretending to be offended. George gave her a wry smile.

"As always" he agreed. A wicked smile suddenly lit up Elizabeth's face, and she leapt from the bed, still wrapped in the sheets, and snatched the papers from George's hands, grinning.

"You can't go anywhere without these!" she sang out, dashing across the room, waving the papers over her head. George glared sternly at her.

"Bess, give them back!" he demanded. She laughed.

"Not likely!" she snorted, giggling. As he darted towards her she dived back into the bed, still clutching the now somewhat crumpled papers, and gave him a smug smile.

"Come and get them, then" she offered sweetly. He came cautiously towards the bed, knowing that he was already late for an audience with King Henry, and knowing that he could not really afford to go back to bed. As he leaned towards her to take back the papers she flung them to the floor and pulled him towards her with all the force that she could muster, and wrapped her arms around him, constricting him.

"You can't tell me that you'd rather go and see the King now" Elizabeth whispered, kissing him fiercely. He was kissing her back in seconds, melting at her touch, certain now that Anne would once again have to make an excuse for his absence.

He pulled away from her, "Marry me, Bess" he whispered. Elizabeth stared at him.

"What? You're married, and so am I" she pointed out. He rolled off of her and lay beside her, taking her hands.

"I don't mean a proper wedding. I mean a secret pledge, between you and I"

"How?" Elizabeth asked, her voice soft, enthralled with the whole idea. George smiled, and took a ruby ring from his finger, that he had had since his Oxford days. He slid it carefully onto the finger on her right hand that was almost like a second ring finger.

"I, George, promise to love you and cherish you for the rest of my days, and take you as my wife" he said solemnly. Elizabeth had flushed a delicate shade of rose pink, and was chewing on her lip.

"Oh" she breathed, looking down at her hand to admire the ring there. She then took off her emerald ring that she had so treasured, which had been a present from her mother before her arrival at court, slipping it onto George's hand on the same finger as he had on her hand.

"And I, Elizabeth, swear to love you and be true to you for all of my life, and take you as my husband" she promised, smiling at him. They looked at each other for a minute, caught up in the moment. Then Elizabeth began to grin again, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You know, a marriage is never valid unless it is consummated..." she reminded him innocently. George laughed.

"Well, we couldn't have an invalid marriage, now, could we?"

Elizabeth twined her body with his and kissed his neck, "I guess the King will just have to wait"


	11. Enemies

**A/N: I was really looking forward to this. I hope you like it. This is after George has died, and the day before Anne died, when Elizabeth is going back for her last night at court, and she just can't resist treating Jane (Boleyn) like crap. Good for her, I say. Please read and review!**

_I said, hey, girl with one eye  
Get your filthy fingers out of my pie  
I said, hey, girl with one eye  
I'll cut your little heart out cause you made me cry – Girl with one eye, Florence + the machine_

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Aurora asked anxiously, her hand hovering lightly on Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth, her face tear streaked and her eyes rimmed with red, jerked away.

"I'm fine" she replied sharply, "I'm fine"

She stormed away from her cousin, black skirts swishing, and looked back just in time to see the sympathetic, sad smile on Aurora's face. Head held high, trying not to let anyone see the devastation on her face and the tears in her eyes, she marched towards her rooms.

A horribly familiar face stopped her in her tracks. She froze, her face flushing red with anger and her eyes dark. She marched towards George's wife Jane, the woman who had sent him to the scaffold, with determination burning in her mind.

"Are you happy now?" she growled, her nails digging into Jane's arm as she drew the woman to a halt. Jane stared at her blankly.

"What do you want?" she asked, sounding calm. This angered Elizabeth more than anything.

"As if you do not know!" she exclaimed furiously, "You killed him, and by tomorrow you will have killed her! You're a murderer!"

Jane looked around the empty corridor, hoping for a saviour, but none came. Elizabeth's rages were at least as terrible as poor Anne's, and even more frightening.

"Look at me!" Elizabeth hissed, "Look at what you have done to me!"

"What about what you have done to me?" Jane retorted suddenly, "If it was not for you George and I could have been happy together"

Elizabeth laughed wildly, "You and him? Never! He would never have been happy with you. He hated you, Jane, we all did. We all do. He was mine from when we were children, and we were together before I was even married, before your own marriage!"

"Shut up" Jane snapped, her face flushed with fury, "You were his whore, nothing more than that"

"He loved me, and I love him still. Yes, I was his whore, yes, I did things that not even a whore would do, but he loved me. Do you want to hear about our daughters, Jane?"

"No! Be quiet!" Jane shrieked.

"We have the two most beautiful daughters in the world, Jane. Alice, oh, she looks so like him, so beautiful, and Margaret, she looks like me, but she has his eyes, they both have his eyes. You remember his eyes, Jane, those beautiful dark eyes that will haunt me forever? Maybe our next child will have them too – did I mention that I now carry his third child in my belly? You have just taken a father from three innocent children, one who will never know his father and the others who adored him" Elizabeth explained, her voice harsh. Jane shivered.

"Stop it. We could have been happy, I am sure of it"

"No you couldn't! For goodness sake, Jane, he betrayed you almost every night! Didn't you ever wake up in the night and think that you were imagining what you heard coming from his rooms? Didn't you get jealous, during all those masquerades, when he came dashing over to claim me instead of you? Didn't you realise that when we were in Calais he never spent one night alone? Didn't you guess that the only reason that he could ever manage to lay with you was because he was thinking of me?" Elizabeth knew that she was being cruel and merciless, but she could not help it, she was so torn by grief.

"You let him die today" she whispered, "And you killed me too. That is how it feels, as if I am dead with him, as if the only reason I have to stay is for my children. You let that axe swing down and cut off his beautiful head and you did nothing to stop it. And I hope and pray with all my heart and all my soul that one day you will pay for it with your life, just as he paid for his sinning with me with his"

"Bessie!" Aurora appeared, and rushed towards her cousin, shocked, "Bessie, stop it!"

"Oh, no, wait a moment, Aurora. I have just one more thing to say" Elizabeth replied, suddenly quite calm.

She reached out and struck Jane, as hard as she could, leaving scratches on the older woman's face.

"And you deserve worse, you vile bitch" she snapped, before walking away, filled with dignity.

**A/N 2 : It may seem like Elizabeth is being a complete bitch, but you have to consider the fact that she has literally just lost the love of her life and knows that she will never see him again. I think that's a good excuse for her behaviour, really. Please review!**


	12. Chateau Vert

**A/N: I wrote this one in my head the other night, hope you like it! This is actually how Anne made her debut in the English court in 1522, so I thought I would change it to Elizabeth and Aurora's debut, for the purpose of the fan fiction. This is set the day before the second chapter, so the day before George and Elizabeth declare their love for each other. Please read and review!**

_One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me And I discovered that my castles stand Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand - Viva La Vida, Coldplay._

George marched into the great hall of Hampton Court with the other men, known that day as the Knights of the Virtues. The Chateau Vert, a grand masquerade set in the Cardinal's own home, had taken months of planning to get just right. The stage was a green and gold castle, with green tinfoil battlements and drapes in various shades of green. Upon the balcony stood seven ladies, the Virtues, all looking beautiful in white satin gowns with golden masks. Underneath them, upon the battlements, stood the Vices, a group of seven women gowned in black, with their own gold masks.

George looked up to scan the group of ladies on the balcony. The King's sister Mary was there, with dear Anne and Mary, and Aurora, and that awful Jane Parker, and one of the Queen's Spanish ladies, and, finally, Elizabeth. She was joining the other Virtues in flinging down handfuls of red and pink rose petals, and tiny sweetmeats. George squinted to read the name of her particular virtue, written on a ivory sash draped over her gown, and saw that she was named 'Bounty'. This made him smile, as his own sash read 'Pleasure'. It was almost as though they matched.

Elizabeth, now looking rather bored, stopped throwing the petals and stretched her aching arms. She glanced towards George, and smiled to herself. Their flirtations had been carrying on for a year, and although she was enjoying the games that they played, she wondered if he would ever admit that he was in love with her, as she was with him. She knew that, as it was part of the masque, they would pretend now to known one another, as though the masks were complete disguises.

Shooting George another quick glance to make sure that he was watching her, she stretched again, curving her body to emphasise the narrowness of her waist and the fill of her breasts pressed against the white bodice. She plucked a ripe strawberry from the bowl of sweet things to throw, and began to chew on the soft fruit, leaning on the balcony edge as if she were too bored for words. Other men were climbing the battlements to claim their ladies, and she knew that George would not be far behind.

George came dashing up the balcony towards her, and held out his hand, eyes sparkling and a smile on his lips.

"If you rescue me, you can have a strawberry" Elizabeth offered before he could speak, a slow, alluring smile on her lips. She held the strawberry out towards him, her smile so sweet and inviting. George grinned and allowed her to feed the strawberry to him, licking the red juice from her fingers. It was the closest they had come to any true physical contact, and Elizabeth was blushing as it happened.

"Fair Lady Bounty, would you care to dance?" he asked softly, holding out his hand. She bit her lip for a moment, then took his hand, smiling.

"Of course, Sir Pleasure, and I thank you heartily for saving me" she replied, equally quietly. The dance was a bright country romp, and they skipped and twirled with the other dancers, both laughing uproariously. The music then changed to a slow, romantic tune, and George took Elizabeth in his arms to twirl her around. Their eyes, hers sapphire blue and his black, gazed at one another through the slits in their golden masks. They smiled at each other, Elizabeth almost breathless at the feel of his hands on her waist. Their bodies brushed together, their hips swayed in time. She leaned towards him.

"You know who I am, don't you?" she whispered, her lips brushing his ear, then his neck, so gently that he could almost have imagined it, which was, of course, what she had intended.

"Of course" he whispered back, his lips against her own ear, "How could I not?"

They both smiled at each other. The dance ended. He bowed, she curtsied.

"Will you ever say it?" she asked softly, sweeping away.

**A/N: Sorry, this turned out a bit too long. Oh well. Please read and review! Oh, and, in case no-one knows, Chateau Vert is French for green castle.**


	13. Jealousy and Possession

**A/N: So basically, this chapter also tells you something that you didn't know in the story. In the second last chapter (I think it's that one) Francis Weston tells Elizabeth that he loves her. However, George knew all along that Francis was in love with Elizabeth, and it kind of wrecked their friendship. They stayed acquaintances, I guess, but not friends. Please read and review!**

_'Cause I just can't look - it's killing me  
And taking control  
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea  
Turning through sick lullabies  
Choking on your alibis – Mr Brightside, The Killers._

"Just one kiss" George pleaded. Elizabeth scowled and blushed, her eyes darting anxiously around them.

"Someone will _see!" _she squeaked, "No, we can't"

"Bess, there's no-one here" George pointed out, surveying the empty corridor with a sweep of his hands. Elizabeth sighed crossly but did not protest as George leaned forward to press his lips to hers. She melted into him at once, clinging to him, and he laughed and pulled slowly away from her.

"Whatever happened to being cautious?" he grinned. She gave him a rueful smile.

"I forgot" she giggled, "Now go, we cannot go back into the hall together!" she gave him a gentle push away from her.

"Well, I suppose I will see you tonight, anyway" he agreed, "Go on, you go first"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Ever the gentleman" she murmured, sweeping away in her most dignified manner. George watched her go, laughing quietly to himself before warily following her.

"George? May we speak for a moment?" Francis Weston appeared in front of him, blushing. George had a feeling of what their talk would be about.

"Have you been spying?" he asked Francis sternly.

"No! I mean, why would – I would never – maybe I was. Do you know?" Francis asked anxiously. George snorted.

"Of course I know, what do you think I am? I have been watching you like a hawk for months now. You think that you love her" George said simply. Francis looked him straight in the eye.

"I do. I do love her" he retorted. George raised his eyebrows.

"She's mine, Francis"

"Would she want to hear you say that? Women don't like to be possessions, George"

"Elizabeth does" said George shortly, "Leave her alone"

"Never"

"Francis, we have been good friends for many years now. I do not want to ruin our comradeship, but I will not have you attempting to steal Elizabeth from me. I love her more than life itself"

"You don't love her!" Francis exclaimed, temper flaring, "You treat her like a common whore!"

"Only when she wishes to be treated as such"

"And which woman would want that?"

"Elizabeth. You see, Francis, you don't know her at all. And anyhow, what would you do if she was your mistress? I have seen you at the whorehouse, I know how you treat women, and you would treat her much worse than I do"

"What if she chose me?"

George laughed derisively, "She would never choose you. She loves me"

"Are you sure?"

"Shall I tell you, then, Francis, that she is at this moment carrying my first child? What do you say to that?" George taunted. Francis froze.

"You are treating her like a whore, if she now carries your bastard" Francis hissed. This was the last straw for George. He clutched Francis around the throat, turning his old friends' face purple, and held him against a wall. He let go of Francis' throat, but used his arm to bar him from moving.

"Just leave her alone, and my child. She is mine, I tell you that now, and that will never change. We will be together our whole lives, despite what you may think. You are not to talk to her, or dance with her, or play cards with her, or even think of her, ever again. If you do, I will kill you" George threatened, and he meant it. Francis glared at him for a few moments, then slumped, defeated.

"Alright" he croaked, "I promise"

They walked side by side into the great hall, wearing their court smiles upon their faces. Elizabeth swished over to George, a curious smile on her face.

"Where were you?" she asked softly, "You missed the Volte, I had to dance it with my husband, and he is terrible!"

George laughed, then glanced at Francis, who stood mute beside him, "Francis and I were just catching up" he lied smoothly. Elizabeth laughed.

"Oh, honestly, you see each other every day!" she gave Francis a pretty smile, "Good day, Francis"

He looked at her beautiful face, desperate to reply, but nodding and walking away instead. She frowned after him.

"Whatever is the matter with him this evening?" she asked George suspiciously. George laughed in an offhand way.

"Oh, nothing, Bess, nothing at all"

**A/N:Please review!**


	14. Unrequited Love

A/N: READ THIS! This is from the point of view of Francis Weston, just because he did love Elizabeth too, and a part of me feels sorry for him. Another part of me really doesn't. He's more of a bastard in the book version of this – in this he's more like the heartbroken other guy. Anyway, please read and review!

_I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing  
I have no choice, I hear your voice, feels like flying  
I close my eyes, oh God, I think I'm falling  
out of the sky. I close my eyes  
Heaven help me – Like a Prayer, Glee cast version._

She laughs, loudly – the sound reaches me from my distant corner. I try so hard to keep away from her, but every day she draws me closer. It is better for me to be her friend than to be nothing at all, though just breathing the same air as her seems agonising painful. Her laugh rings out, like the pealing of bells – she's laughing at something Aurora has said. Her face is bright, a little pink from the wine; her blue eyes are sparkling with mirth. Her full pink lips are parted in a smile, showing pearly teeth, and her hair gleams and shimmers in the candlelight. Her gown is scarlet, cut low to show an indecent amount of cleavage, and fans prettily outward from her thighs.

Oh, Elizabeth. How I wish she were mine.

But she never can be.

The musicians start up the music for my favourite dance, and before I can stop it my feet are carrying me towards Elizabeth. She smiles to see me; George scowls.

"Hello, Francis" she says prettily, "George and I were just discussing –"

"Bess, don't" George pleads softly, urgently. I wonder what the two of them know. She looks at him curiously, then nods, winking at him. I clench my jaw.

"Would you like to dance?" I ask her. George glares at me, but Elizabeth doesn't see, and she accepts.

We dance and twirl, and she steps closer to me in the dance, as the music dictates. She gives me an embarrassed, awkward little smile as she is forced to curve her body to fit the shape of mine. She cannot look me in the eyes, yet I cannot stop staring at her. The feel of her body against mine is what I have longed for all of this time.

"Are you all right?" she asks eventually, blushing as she finally looks at me. I realise that she can probably see the desire in my eyes, and I try to hide it, but she has already seen. It alarms her – her eyes widen and she moves a little away from me.

"Elizabeth – "I begin, but the dance then ends. She pulls abruptly away from me, curtsies, and dashes back to George. I stand, frozen, in the middle of the hall, and Rosamund, one of the more whorish ladies, comes up to me to dance.

I see Elizabeth and George conferring in quick, low voices, and the anxiety in Elizabeth's eyes. Either she is worried about upsetting me, or worried that I will hurt her. I never would.

I love her.


	15. In the Fountain

A/N: I'm depressed today (I just finished my work experience and I love my bosses and I'll miss them LOADS., but I am going back in the summer). So I thought I would write another one of these to cheer myself up . Please read and review!

_I can feel her on my skin  
I can taste her on my tongue  
She's the sweetest taste of sin  
The more I get the more I want  
She wants to own me...  
Come closer  
She says "come closer" – Closer, Ne-yo._

"Come back to bed" George suggested sleepily, holding out his arms towards Elizabeth. She ignored him, leaning out of the window into the cool night air, letting the starlight stain her skin silver.

"It's too hot" she answered finally, "You know, sometimes I rather dislike the summer"

George rolled his eyes, not replying. Elizabeth turned to look at him, her face suddenly lit up and a grin sparkling on her lips.

"What?" he asked suspiciously. Elizabeth grinned even wider.

"Let's go for a swim!" she decided, pulling on her shift, "Come on, I love swimming, and it'll cool us down"

"Swimming where?" George frowned. Elizabeth rolled her eyes just as he had done, flinging his shift at him.

"In the fountain" she said, as if it were completely obvious, twirling out of the room like an overexcited child. George followed her at a much slower pace, not able to fathom such enthusiasm at such a late hour.

The night was much cooler outdoors than in the stifling heat of Hever castle. Elizabeth had already braced herself and slipped into the icy, shallow water by the time George reached her. She shivered, then gave a sigh of relief.

"So cold" she murmured, "Come in, then"

George followed her and gave a yelp as the freezing water closed around him. Elizabeth laughed loudly. She was trying to wade through the water, laughing more as she did so. George watched, grinning at the almost childlike amusement she gained from the activity.

She skidded on the rocky bottom of the shallow pool and fell down, still laughing, but wincing a little too. George rushed over to her as quickly as he could and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"Thank you" she said sweetly, biting her lip. George stared at her. The water had made her shift transparent and clingy, showing her every curve to its fullest advantage. Elizabeth looked confused, for a moment, as she wondered what he was looking at, before she realised. She blushed.

"Oh" she mumbled, "I'm guessing you want to go back to bed now?"

"We don't have to go back to bed..." George replied thoughtfully. Elizabeth grinned, catching on, and beckoned him towards her.

"Come closer" she whispered.


	16. First Kiss

**A/N: I didn't actually have this one planned, but then I thought about it a bit and this idea came to me. I like writing little scenes between George and Elizabeth before they get to court. So this is set when George is 14, and on a visit home from Oxford, and when Elizabeth is 11. To read this, you have to understand that most children in those days had reached quite a high level of maturity by the time they were ten and were often married by the time they were 12. Just remember that while reading. Please review!**

_My first kiss went a little like this  
and twist, and twist  
Well my first kiss went a little like this  
and twist, and twist..._

_She won't ever get enough  
Once she gets a little touch - My First Kiss, 3OH3!_

"You could stay" Elizabeth offers, paddling her toes in the fountain of the rose garden at Hever, "I bet Oxford is ever so dull"

"It isn't, actually" George concedes, giving her a crooked smile, "You would love it there"

"I would?"Elizabeth gives him a quick, eager glance, then looks away again, "But girls aren't allowed, I know that"

"It is such a shame, for you really would enjoy it. Anne would too. You learn all sorts of things, and read all the newest, most wonderful books, and learn all different writings and languages – Latin and French and Spanish, of course, but a little Dutch too" George's face is bright, lit up with enthusiasm. Elizabeth smiles.

"I am glad you like it there. And it sounds as though you will be well prepared for court life"

"I will" George agrees. She says nothing, pulling blades of grass up from the ground. George knows that he should really be spending the visit with his doting mother, or his old governess, Semmonet. He wishes that Anne were home, though she will be soon. Mary is at court, married. Aurora has been sent to Allington castle instead of Hever, today, to play with the Wyatt children, and also to split her up from Elizabeth. Their fathers say that the closeness of their relationship is unbecoming and odd in marriageable ladies.

"Have you kissed anyone?" Elizabeth asks suddenly, not meeting his eyes. This is unusual for her – she never asks questions like this, and she never fails to meet his gaze.

"Yes" says George, not lying to her, but not telling the whole truth. He refuses to tell her that there have been dozens of girls, dozens of whores, whom he has not only kissed but lain with too. This is Elizabeth he is talking too, sweet Elizabeth, whom he will one day marry. Elizabeth, who cannot bear to look at him now, who is so beautiful even at her young age, whose body is only just beginning the bloom into womanhood, later than all other ladies her age.

"Have you?" George asks, morbidly curious. Elizabeth blushes, but this time, looks him straight in the eyes. Her blue eyes are blazing, radiating light and warmth – she wants him to know that she's telling the truth.

"No" she says, "They have tried, the boys at home. And they have failed"

George laughs at this, and Elizabeth laughs too. She is looking away again. It is like a dance that they are doing with their eyes – look this way, look that way, blue connects with the black, blue twirls away from the black.

"Can you do something for me?" Elizabeth asks suddenly, scattering grass all over her blue gown.

"Of course" George agrees warily. She smiles – that's the answer she wanted.

"No-one has ever kissed me before..." her voice trails away. George tries to hide his smile.

"And?" he prompts.

"Kiss me" she pleads, "And we can just be normal friends straight after"

He leans towards her, brushes an untamed auburn curl away from her face. Once again the blue and the black fix on one another, and Elizabeth smiles.

He kisses her, just once, just lightly, the barest brush of his lips. She looks at him, waiting for more, expectant. He presses his lips to hers properly, for the first time, feels the furious thudding of his heart. She clings to him, somehow knowing what she should do, feeling the love that she has always kept hidden flame inside her. She wants to tell him that she loves him, he wants to tell him that he thinks he loves her.

They move away from each other, eyes not meeting, gazing into the water, catching their breath.

She looks up at him, smiling through a curtain of glowing hair, "Race you back to the castle?"

They're back to how they were before. It's a little bit of bereavement. George grins back.

"I'll win" he taunts, leaping up from the ground and getting and head start, whilst she shrieks and chases after him. 


	17. Joined Forever

**A/N: YOU NEED TO READ THIS TO UNDERSTAND THE PLOT OF THIS STORY! Just thought I'd let you know. So. This is an alternative ending to an Affair of the Heart. Yes, I did actually contemplate this idea. Infact, I typed it up, ready to submit, and then thought, wait a minute, what the hell am I doing? So then I changed it. Hope you like it, please read and review! Elizabeth POV.**

_I have nothing left to lose  
You took your time to choose  
Then we told each other  
With no trace of fear that...  
Our love would be forever  
And if we die  
We die together  
And lie, I said never  
'Cause our love would be forever  
The world is broken  
Halo's fail to glisten  
You try to make a difference  
But no one wants to listen – Neutron Star Collision, Muse._

I watched George mount the scaffold with my heart beating madly against my ribs, hot and brokenly pumping blood around my ice-cold body. I smiled tremulously as he looked for me, and our eyes connected. As it happened, another part of me broke, smashed into smithereens, leaving me only an empty shell of myself. Only my mind was left, and my torn heart, and I knew what I had to do.

The note I had scrawled last night burned a hole in my pocket. With my eyes fixed tearfully on George, I passed it to Aurora.

"Don't read it until after I am gone" I ordered.

"Gone where?" she hissed, her eyes darting from me to George and back again.

"I am going to follow the men carrying George's body to the chapel, to say a last farewell to him. Then I will return. He wished for you to open the note alone, after he was...dead" I told her smoothly, trying not to let my voice quaver.

"He wrote this?" Aurora winced as she spoke, and George spoke too, his final words. I just nodded, and she looked back to her friend and my love as he fell silent, knelt at the block.

"I love you" he mouthed to me. I smiled, though it faltered on my lips, slipping away to leave the expression of grief and pain that had so frequently been a part of me those past few weeks. His eyes widened in fear and I looked to the ground as the axe swung through the air with a whistle and fell down with a thud. And again. And again.

When I looked up, the people were cheering. George's head was held aloft by the executioner, who looked revolted by what he was doing. I screamed, I could not bear it, and Aurora sobbed. They bundled his body into a coffin and I followed, tears rolling in ribbons down my cheeks, but my mind and movements filled with purpose.

The men ignored me as they lay the coffin into the hole in the ground. I watched them lower it and thought of the note I had given Aurora.

_I am so sorry. I love you, my dearest sister._

_Look after my girls. Tell them that we love them every day._

_I don't want to do this, but I cannot live without him._

_Elizabeth_

I thought of the child growing in my womb. I placed my hands over my belly.

"Sorry" I whispered. The men looked up. They were getting ready to cover the coffin over.

"Stop" I demanded, my voice hollow, "Don't move"

They seemed confused, but they obeyed, freezing over the grave.

I grabbed the holy cross from the altar and smashed it down on the floor, making both the men jump.

"What are you doing?" one of them asked warily. I just smiled, snatching up part of the cross from the floor, examining the sharp, jagged end that looked like a dagger.

"Bury me with him" I pleaded, and I plunged the 'dagger' into my breast.

I gasped, staggered, fell to the ground, sticky, wet blood pooling over my bodice.

As my vision swam before my eyes I saw Aurora run into the doorway.

"ELIZABETH! NO!" she screamed, her voice ragged and raw, "No!"

"Sorry" I whispered again, barely audible, blood bubbling on my lips.

Then I sank into the darkness to join my George.

**A/N: Yes, I really was going to kill her. But then I thought, what about those poor children, and poor Aurora, who already lost two of her best friends and totally didn't need to lose Elizabeth too. So I changed my mind. And I would really recommend listening to the song that I have quoted her – in my opinion, if George and Elizabeth had a song, this would be it. Please review!**


	18. Charles

**A/N: READ FOR PLOTLINE! So. In the sequel to An Affair of the Heart (Forbidden Love's Legacy), Alice does mention that Charles, who was George's guard and friend in his last days in the Tower, had a bit of a crush on Elizabeth. So, I wondered what would have happened, if Charles liked her and she was all depressed and alone...and this is the result. Not too sure about writing this as I'm not used to writing this sort of stuff, let alone posting it! Please read and review!**

_Every now and then I get a little bit lonely  
and you're never coming round.  
Every now and then I get a little bit tired  
of listening to the sound of my tears.  
Every now and then I get a little bit nervous  
that the best of all the years have gone by.  
Every now and then I get a little bit terrified...  
Every now and then I fall apart.  
Every now and then I fall apart. – Total Eclipse of the Heart, Glee cast version. _

"Are you alright?" Charles asked anxiously as Elizabeth stepped out of the chapel. It had been a year since George's death, a lonely year, though brightened slightly by the birth of their son, named after his father, the image of him.

"I've been better" she replied. Charles looked worriedly at her.

"Come and have a seat in my house and I'll get you some wine. You cannot leave like this" he ordered, putting an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. She smiled weakly at him.

"Thank you, Charles. You are so kind" she responded gratefully as she followed him to a small, modest house.

Only moments later Elizabeth was seated at his table, sipping at a goblet of wine. She looked around curiously.

"No wife?" she asked nosily. Charles snorted.

"No"

"Children?"

"No" Charles hesitated, "I have a bastard daughter in Kent"

"Oh. Then you have a mistress?"

"No. She was a whore"

"Oh!" Elizabeth looked away from him, almost laughing at her own surprise. He couldn't help grinning sheepishly too. Then, suddenly, Elizabeth burst into tears, curling up on the chair, hugging her knees to her chest. Charles dashed awkwardly over to her and tried to hug her. She snivelled.

"Oh, I am sorry!" she sobbed, "I just feel so alone, Charles! Without him I feel...I feel broken inside. And it never gets any better!" she wiped her eyes hurriedly before continuing, "I want you to tell me about his last days, I want you to tell me what he was like"

Charles looked at the beautiful, elegant, fragile woman before him and shook his head, "I don't want to talk about him anymore"

Elizabeth frowned, confused, tears still sparkling on her eyelashes, "But-"

Charles cut her off with a kiss. At first she was frozen, stunned, but soon, against her will, she had begun to respond. It had been so long since she had shared such a kiss with anyone, and it felt natural to accept this attention.

Charles, still with his lips against hers, picked her up and sat her on the edge of the table, where he continued to kiss her with more urgency. She swung her legs around his waist, loving being close to someone again. His fingers tangled through the laces of her bodice, tearing them apart, while her fingers curled into his hair. She gave a low moan as his hands touched her bare skin, and then louder as his hands moved up her gown. She tore at his clothes, her nails digging into his chest.

"George..." she breathed. Charles had not heard her, but the sound of her dead love's name bought Elizabeth back to her senses. She gasped and jerked away from Charles, sliding across the table away from him. He stared at her, completely naked. She blushed furiously.

"Oh God!" she squeaked, "Oh goodness. This is terrible. I am so sorry, I just..." she gulped, grabbing her bodice and quickly lacing it, "I can't, I'm sorry. I can't"

"You were going to" said Charles, slightly bitter as he reached for his clothes, "What changed your mind?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, "I called you George" she whispered, horrified with herself, "I didn't mean to, but I called you George"

Charles gulped too, "Oh. I see"

"Don't hate me" Elizabeth pleaded, "I want us to still be friends. Maybe, if the circumstances had been different, then we could...but as it is, I loved George, and I still do. I can never love anyone like I loved him, so it just wouldn't be fair to...to be with anyone else. Do you see?"

"I understand" said Charles, his voice gentle, "And I am sorry, I insisted. Of course we are still friends" he gave her a small smile, "He spoke about you. All the time. All day, all night. He whispered your name in his sleep. He told me time and time again how much he loved you, and he was scared, so very scared, but the thought of you made him brave. He did not pray for his soul once – he prayed only that he would see you one last time. And when he did he was at peace with himself at last. He was ready to die"

"Thank you" Elizabeth murmured, beginning to weep again, silently, "Thank you so much for everything"

"If you ever change your mind, you know where I am" Charles added wryly, "And you must bring your son to see me soon"

"Of course. Goodbye for now"

"Good day"


	19. Neutron Star Collision

_I was searching  
You were on a mission  
Then our hearts combined like  
A neutron star collision_

Elizabeth woke from a fitful sleep and reached out to the side of the bed that had so often been occupied by George, even though she knew that he could not possibly be there, that he never would be again. She stifled a sob, pressing her hand to her mouth to silence her tears. That very morning the axe had swung down and cut off his beautiful head, and he would never hold her again.

She remembered the first time they had become reacquainted at court. She, young and hopeless and naive, searching desperately for a love that was long lost. Him, young and handsome and far too clever, looking for his next whore. He hadn't expected, however, to fall in love with her, to never take another whore but her ever again.

_I have nothing left to lose  
You took your time to choose  
Then we told each other  
With no trace of fear that..._

Our love would be forever  
And if we die  
We die together  
And lie, I said never  
'Cause our love would be forever

Oh, how well she remembered the day that they had declared their love for each other. Alone in that tiny little room that had been hers and Aurora's at the time. How they had known right from that moment that no matter who came along, there would never be anyone else. How, when he had kissed her for the first time, her heart had exploded into thousands of tiny pieces, overflowing with love and lust.

_The world is broken  
Halo's fail to glisten  
You try to make a difference  
But no one wants to listen_

She tried so hard to save him, Hell, she even stood up in court for him, let everyone know that she was his whore and she loved him, damn the consequences. She tried so much, and no-one would listen. She begged Cromwell, she fought for his life until the moment that axe ended it.

_Hail,  
The preachers, fake and proud  
Their doctrines will be cloud?  
Then they'll dissipate  
Like snowflakes in an ocean_

It wasn't just her that needed him. What about the reformation, the reformation that he and Anne had designed, the reformation that she, too, had so longed for? Without them, Henry would weaken under Jane Seymour's Catholic influence. Their hard work would be for nothing, his hard work would no longer matter.

_Love is forever  
And we'll die, we'll die together  
And lie, I say never  
'Cause our love could be forever_

She always said that she would die without him. But what of her children, her two beautiful daughters and the son she carried in her belly?

_Now I've got nothing left to lose  
You take your time to choose  
I can tell you now without a trace of fear_

That my love will be forever  
and we'll die  
we'll die together  
Lie, I will never  
'Cause our love will be forever

But, in reality, she had died with him. Her heart was dead, her soul was dead, and what was she without her heart and soul? A corpse, a walking corpse, alone, destined to live on in this hell without him, destined never to love again.

"Oh, George" Elizabeth whispered, sniffling into her pillow, staining the linen with her tears, "I love you"

**A/N: I've said before that this is the ultimate George and Elizabeth song, and I hope now you can see why I think so. I love this song, and no other song could honour their relationship more than this one, in my opinion. If you think of another song that would work for their relationship and you want me to do a songfic for that aswell, let me know! Please review!**


	20. Another Final Meeting

**A/N: READ THIS FOR PLOTLINE! So. After her last, and very emotional meeting in the tower with George, Elizabeth decides to visit Francis, as George has told her that Francis is in love with her. She thinks it's only fair to see him before he dies, to apologise for not knowing. In this, she didn't see Francis before George. Not too sure about writing this, if I'm honest. Just to clarify, I'm totally on George's side. I just wanted to write more about Francis, because he plays a big part in the book version and I kind of need to explore his character more. Please read and review!**

_Hello, is it me you're looking for?  
'Cause I wonder where you are  
And I wonder what you do  
Are you somewhere feeling lonely or is someone loving you?  
Tell me how to win your heart  
For I haven't got a clue  
But let me start by saying … I love you – Hello, Glee cast version._

"May I?" Elizabeth gestured towards the heavy wooden door, pleading the guard with her big blue eyes, still red raw from crying for George. He considered her for a moment. She held up the bundle of clothing.

"May I?" she repeated. He struggled with thought for a few moments more, then opened the door.

This time, her eyes adjusted to the gloom almost instantly. She noticed with indignation that at least Francis had a window, whereas George had no light whatsoever in his cell.

"Damn these hallucinations" Francis muttered, rubbing his eyes fiercely. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She felt stupidly awkward – all she really wanted to do was go back to court, climb into her bed and sob until dawn, when she would see the man that she loved die. But she had thought that she owed it to Francis to say goodbye to him, to apologise for not knowing of his feelings for her.

"I'm not a hallucination" she sighed, "Why does everyone think that today?"

"Elizabeth?" Francis rose unsteadily to his feet. He had bruises down his arms, and she felt a moment of anger that they would do such things to a nobleman, but was quickly relieved that nothing of the sort had happened to George.

"Yes" she stepped towards him, "George told me something about you"

"Oh, did he?" Francis scowled, "I bet he did"

"Stop it" Elizabeth said sharply, "I shan't tell you what he said if you talk about him like that"

"No, of course you won't" snapped Francis, in full flow now, "You were always his, weren't you, right from the beginning- if only you had made that clear! You were always so _loyal _to him, so _sweet, _so _innocent_! But I saw you two, when you were alone – you weren't so innocent then, were you? You behaved like a whore when the two of you were alone, no wonder he liked you so much, you were his slut, that was all it was. You did things that a whore would do, and you did them only for him, and that's the reason he liked you so much. You-"

Elizabeth, unable to stop herself, reached out and struck him hard around the face. She had started to cry without realising it, his words, his lies, causing her physical pain.

"He told me that you love me" she said into the shocked silence, "That's why I know that those words that you just said were out of pure spite and jealousy. So I shan't resent you for them"

Francis gave a small, crooked smile, "Sorry. It was wrong of me to say those things"

"It was" Elizabeth agreed haughtily, "Especially when I only came here to apologise to you for not taking more care with your feelings. But your words have startled me. How did you see us when we were alone without us discovering you? I must know"

Francis shuffled awkwardly from one foot to another, "I hid" he said simply, "It wasn't difficult to catch you out, was it, really? For goodness sakes, he had you in corridors, behind tapestries, in rooms that you thought no-one else knew about"

Elizabeth blushed, "How much did you see?" she had to ask, she felt, though with every word her voice got smaller and smaller.

"Everything" he mumbled. Her face went even redder.

"Oh God" she whispered, "That's disgusting"

"I know. I'm sorry, I truly am"

Elizabeth nodded, "I'm sure"

"I do love you" he gulped, "And I'm glad you gave me this opportunity to tell you before I die"

"Me too" Elizabeth looked at him. What did she do as a goodbye? She had never particularly liked him, she felt that he often led George astray, and as much has she had pretended otherwise, his words had both offended and repulsed her.

She swallowed her resignation and went towards him, giving him a brief embrace. He was taller than George – she only came up to his chest. He held on to her tighter than was necessary, making it difficult for her to break away, but she managed. She kissed his cheek very lightly.

"Goodbye, then" she said, unsure what to do. The door was still open.

"Is that it?" he asked, disappointed. She nodded firmly.

"Goodbye" she repeated, "May...may God forgive you. And bless you in His own Heaven"

Elizabeth swept out of the room, thanking God that that awful meeting was over. She looked back, down to where George's room was, and her eyes filled up with tears. As she hovered, she heard screams. A voice she recognised.

Mark Smeaton, young Mark, was being dragged along by two sentries, unable to walk. His legs sagged and dropped, like a ragdolls, his face, chest and arms were covered in scars, dried blood and bruises of all shape, size and colour. She suddenly understood why he had 'confessed'. She froze, and Francis' guard noticed. He covered her eyes, but she could still hear Mark's screams as he was flung away, and she had seen enough.

"Why?" she asked, trembling, as the guard removed his hand, "He told you everything, he lied for you, he has nothing left to say. Why are you still hurting him?"

The guard turned away, pretending not to hear her. She stood right in front of him, her face close to his.

"Why are you hurting him? Why? Why? Why?" she chanted, outraged. He pushed her away.

"Leave" he demanded.

"Why?" her voice got louder, shriller, "Why?"

"Elizabeth?" she heard George's voice and stopped.

"I'm hysterical now!" she called out brightly, "Hysterical, and mad as a hatter, that's me, mad, mad, mad, mad with grief. Why, sir? Why am I mad, why are you hurting him? So many questions, and no answers. I love you, George, I do. And Francis loves me. Oh dear, dear, what a mess, and Mark loves Anne but he betrayed her, didn't he?" Elizabeth stopped, breathing heavily, realising that all the things she had just said, were, indeed, mad.

"She's scaring me now" she heard George say worriedly. Charles appeared then.

"I'll take her out" he told the other guard, "She knows me"

He gripped her arm, and took her on a detour, so that she could go past George.

"Sorry" she said, looking at his face pressed against the hatch in the door, "Sorry. I love you. But I'm scared" she started to cry again.

"My Elizabeth" George said gently, "There's nothing left to scare you now, I promise. You've seen it all, my love. My darling Bess. We have to say goodbye now"

"Again" she said thickly. George nodded.

"Again" he agreed, "Good day, sweetheart"

"Goodbye, George" she burst into tears again, and was dragged away, gently, by Charles, unable to look back once more.


	21. Honey

**A/N: This chapter is simply because you never got to read much about Aurora's wedding. And I like Aurora, considering the fact that she's based on my best friend. It's just Elizabeth giving Aurora some pre-marital advice, combined with a bit of George and Elizabeth fluff. This, and the next chapter, are also sort of presents for Lady Eleanor Boleyn, as I think I was beginning to give her severe depression with all my angsty stories. Please read and review!**

_Oh as the light goes out  
Thoughts turn to angels on the run  
Oh as the night comes in  
Dreams start their drifting and you hear a lullaby  
Lullaby  
You and I – Lullaby, One Republic._

"Are you sure about...marriage?" Elizabeth asked her cousin hesitantly, "I mean, do you actually...love him?"

Aurora looked indignant, "Of course I do. You know me, Bessie – would I marry him if I did not?"

"No" Elizabeth admitted, "Sorry, I had to ask"

"I understand. You're protecting me" Aurora laughed, "As if I need protecting"

Elizabeth smiled, "You are younger than me. It is natural"

"Elizabeth..."Aurora's face had become solemn once more, and she drew Elizabeth closer to her, "I don't know what to do"

"Whatever do you mean? Don't worry, the minister instructs you on what to do" Elizabeth said gaily, "Honestly, it is ever so easy. You don't even have to mean it. I certainly didn't mean my vows"

"You were different" Aurora mumbled, blushing, "No, I mean...on the wedding night"

"But you have lain with him dozens of times, I know it, you cannot pretend to me. You have nothing to be scared of!"

"No, I mean...a wedding night should be special, should it not?"

"Mine wasn't" Elizabeth retorted sourly.

"You were different, I already said that. But, ordinarily, it should be a special, romantic occasion. I wanted to do something different. But I don't know what, or how"

"Oh dear. Have you exhausted your imagination already?" Elizabeth sighed sympathetically, "Well then, we shall have to fix that. Whore's tricks?"

"I've used those" Aurora was mortified. Elizabeth just laughed.

"So have I. Honey?"

"I – what?"

"Honey! Have you never used honey before?"

"Honey? No, whatever for?" Aurora looked at her in confusion. Elizabeth leaned closer and whispered hurriedly in her friend's ear. When she moved away, Aurora looked rather shocked.

"What? Don't look at me like that, please, I cannot bear it. Anyway, it is only for fun, and if you love him, you won't be embarrassed by it. Trust me, he'll love you all the more for it"

Aurora snorted, "Oh, alright then. You are a true whore now, aren't you? You've corrupted me, I'm sure of it"

"Sweetheart, this is court. Everyone is corrupt"

* * *

"You told her to what?" George snorted, looking with shock at his mistress, "Oh dear, Bess, you really are terrible sometimes"

They were at Hever, the only place where they could truly be themselves. Elizabeth was lying across his chest, relating her tale, while he propped himself up on his pillows to listen to her.

"Well, I think it was wonderful advice! It is just as shame that we cannot be present at her wedding. Still, it is a secret wedding, it shan't be a big affair. And she has Anne there with her"

"Stop feeling guilty" George scolded, "Such a delicate conscience"

Elizabeth laughed, then looked innocently at him, artfully widening her blue eyes, "Anyway, you enjoyed it, did you not? When I employed the same...technique?"

"Oh, I did" George murmured, running his fingers through her hair, "Very much so"

"Good" said Elizabeth smugly, "The things I do for you amaze even me, sometimes"

George laughed, "They amaze me too, but in a very different way"

Elizabeth giggled, "That's why I love being at Hever. I can amaze you without anyone ever finding out. Except Mary, of course, and she already knows"

"She doesn't know half of the things you do"

"True, true" Elizabeth slid away from him for a moment.

"Where are you going?" he asked crossly, "Come back. I'm not finished with you yet"

"I'll be back in a moment"

"Well, where are you going?" George demanded. Elizabeth peeked her head back around the door, a mischievous smile lighting up her face.

"Me?" she inquired sweetly, "Oh, I'm going to find some honey"


	22. Queen Anne of May

**A/N: A chapter full of cute light heartedness, I hope. A scene of the Boleyn children and the Hollington cousins playing at Hever as children. Please read and review.**

_We're burning down the highway skyline  
On the back of a hurricane that started turning  
When you were young  
When you were young  
And sometimes you close your eyes  
And see the place where you used to live  
When you were young – When you were young, Killers._

"I am the Queen of May!" Anne declared, twirling around. She was a mere seven years old, and already as haughty and proud as a peacock. Little Aurora Hollington jumped up from her stone seat and waved aloft the garland of roses that she had created, from the magnificent roses in one of Hever's many gardens, which had that day been chosen for their games.

"Here you are, your majesty!" she giggled, standing on her tiptoes to place the garland on Anne's head. As she did so, some of the pastel-colour petals crumbled away from their flowers and settled in Anne's dark hair.

"Thank you, servant" said Anne proudly, seating herself on the stone bench, "You must all obey me and be my loyal subjects"

Mary Boleyn rolled her eyes, but, in reality, she was enjoying the game. She was only nine, soon to be sent away to the court of France. As much as she pretended to be a little lady, her last few days with her friends and siblings was very precious to her.

"All hail the Queen of May!" sang out Elizabeth Hollington, in her sweet, pretty, melodic voice. George laughed fondly at her.

"All hail the Queen of May, the Queen of May, all hail the Queen of May, hail Queen Anne of May!" Elizabeth chanted, boosted by George's encouragement.

"Mary can be my lady-in-waiting" Anne decided, commandeering the group as usual. She had a small, vindictive smile on her face that they all recognised as sisterly rivalry. The chance to best Mary was one that Anne had always relished.

Mary huffed and stood beside her sister, carefully picking the petals out of her hair. George took them and threw them over Elizabeth, like confetti, and she squealed and twirled underneath them, letting them catch in her curls and trail over her gown.

"Raining flowers!" she said brightly. George grinned.

"Pretty Elizabeth" he said softly, so that she couldn't hear. At only a young age, still a child, he had fallen under Elizabeth's spell.

"Aurora, you can be my handmaiden and dressmaker" Anne ordered. Aurora beamed, pleased with her position, and knelt at Anne's feet, pretending to measure the length of her gown.

"Can I be the Princess?" Elizabeth pleaded, "Please, Anne, can I?"

"If you like" Anne agreed, smiling, "You are the prettiest, other than me, of course"

She turned to George as Elizabeth sat by her side. She pretended to consider for a moment, then beamed at her favourite sibling.

"George, you can be the King" she demanded cheerfully. Elizabeth pouted.

"No, George can be the Prince" she huffed, "Otherwise, he would have to marry you, and he can't do that because you're his sister"

Anne scowled, realising the sense of Elizabeth's words, "Fine, then. George, you can be the Prince"

"Can we have a wedding?" asked Elizabeth brightly. Anne wanted to say no, but found it impossible not to indulge sweet Elizabeth's whims and fancies.

"If you like" she repeated, "Come on then, you may as well get some practise"

George went red at that and Anne laughed, "Oh yes, brother, I know you well"

The 'wedding' was wonderfully staged. Afterwards Anne declared that they should go on a hunt.

"Now, who shall we hunt today?" she asked eagerly. They all looked at her in fear, even Mary. Whoever Anne picked to be hunted would have to run very fast, and would be tickled until they could barely breathe once caught.

They stood in silence for a moment. Elizabeth took George's hand. If she was being hunted, he always helped her run.

"Run, Mary, run" Anne said at last, her voice soft and venomous, "Go, Mary, go!"

Mary lifted up her skirts and ran, the children tumbling after her with cries and shrieks of delight and relief, the dying sunlight staining them as golden as angels.


	23. Dressing Down

**A/N: I thought this one up a couple of days ago, not sure if it will work, but I'll try anyway. Hope you like it, please read and review.**

_Put your pretty dress on..._

_Cause they don't see you like I see you_

_If they did, they'd see_

_The nice little girl whose_

_Grown up to become homecoming queen – Pretty Dress, Rosie Thomas._

The fair sized stately home belonging to the Hollington family was as familiar to George Boleyn as his own home. No one had noticed him ride up to the small stables, tie up his horse and enter the mansion. His habits at Oxford had taught him how to be unrecognisable.

He had ridden over to the Hollington house from his home to visit his two childhood friends on his visit back from Oxford. If he was honest with himself, the promise of seeing Elizabeth again was more interesting than seeing Aurora, who had always been like another sister to him. His own sisters were in the court of France, learning wiles and ways from Marguerite of Navarre and Queen Claude. His home was not the same without them – he had the perfect opportunity to visit his friends.

He walked to where he remembered Elizabeth's room was. She did not notice him, standing there in the doorway. She was curled up on a seat by the window, reading. She smiled as she read, giving a wistful sigh and placing a hand over her heart. He guessed that she was taking a break from her usual theological and religious books to read a romance.

She put the book down and gazed dreamily out the window, still smiling. She turned, suddenly alerted to his presence, and gave a cry of delight.

"George!" she squealed, running toward s him. She jumped up into his arms and hugged him tightly. When she moved away she was blushing.

"Where's Aurora?" George asked, smiling fondly at her. She had grown and blossomed into a true English rose.

"The dressmaker has come over to fit us with new gowns" Elizabeth explained, pulling a face, "I like gowns as much as anyone, but I would much rather finish this book. That's why Aurora went first. Mother will probably call me soon" she grimaced, and George laughed.

"Tell me about Oxford again" she demanded, seating herself once more and gesturing towards a chair for him. He smiled at her.

"It is much the same as before; what more is there to tell you? You would love it, I still retain that belief. We read wonderful books, but I have told you that before"

Elizabeth sighed, "There must be something new to tell me! What do you do in your leisure time? Do you even have leisure time?"

"Well...yes" George blushed. She caught on to his embarrassment and eyed him suspiciously.

"Well? What do you do?"

He could not bring himself to tell her what he and Francis did. They would go into the town and find public houses that would serve them. Most of these places offered services from whores, which they frequently used. He would not tell her that he spent his time with whores, and that he spent all his money on them.

"Nothing, really" he shrugged. He could see that she didn't believe him, and would definitely press the point later on.

"Elizabeth!" a voice called, "Elizabeth, it's your turn! Could you strip down to your shift please, darling?"

"Yes, Mother!" Elizabeth called, rolling her eyes. She turned to George.

"Well, that cuts my visit short" he was as disappointed as she was.

"I know" Elizabeth sighed, "Could Aurora and I come and see you tomorrow, at Hever? We can ride out in the morning"

"Of course" George agreed, brightening a little. He turned to leave, but Elizabeth stopped him.

"Wait. Um. We haven't got a maid at the moment, you see, and it is difficult to undo these gowns yours elf. Could you...I mean, do you mind?" she asked awkwardly. George didn't think it was a good idea, but he nodded.

"If you like" he agreed nonchalantly. Elizabeth smiled gratefully at him and turned her back to him so that he could undo the laces of her dress.

"You don't mind, do you?" Elizabeth asked anxiously, "I could try and do it myself – "

"I'm fine" George lied through gritted teeth. He had never felt like this about any of the whores he had had before. He wanted Elizabeth, more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone in his life.

The heavy gown fell to the floor with a thud, leaving Elizabeth in just a corset and underskirt over her shift. George gulped. The laces were at the front this time, so he had to keep his expression neutral and not look her in the eye as his fingers brushed over her breasts. She was blushing , chewing on her lip.

When he had managed to unlace the corset, Elizabeth wriggled out of her skirt and stood there in her shift, trying not to look embarrassed. She managed to look him in the eye for a moment, then stopped suddenly.

"Thank you" she said politely, trying to sound like her normal self and failing. She automatically put her arms around him in her usual friendly embrace. As she rose her arms to put them around his neck, her shift rose a little, showing George a little more than he should have seen. He gulped again, louder, and she moved away from him, having heard it.

She must have seen it then, the desire in his dark eyes, the way he hesitated before her, as if he wanted to touch her but did not dare. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, he saw a flash of the same in her own gaze, so fast he could have imagined it.

"See you tomorrow" she said, still a little dazed by what she had observed. George nodded, forcing himself to smile when all he wanted to do was take her, right then and there.

"I look forward to it" he agreed, smiling properly. She beamed back.

"Elizabeth!" her mother called as George left the room, "Hurry!"

But Elizabeth Hollington took just one more moment to smile to herself and take pride in the fact that the love of her life had just realised that he wanted her.


	24. Innocence

**A/N: I don't think that this really needs an author's note, but oh well. I like writing them. So...please read and review! I wouldn't really count this as M-rated, but it's a bit more suggestive than what I usually write. Just to let you know.**

_She was so shy  
Till I drove her wild  
I make them good girls go bad  
I make them good girls go bad  
You were hanging in the corner  
With your five best friends  
You heard that I was trouble  
But you couldn't resist  
I make them good girls go bad  
I make them good girls go  
Good girls go bad – Good Girls Go Bad, Cobra Starship and Leighton Meester._

George watched her sleep, smiling to himself. She had a small smile on her lips as she dreamed, her arms holding the sheets tightly around her naked body, her eyelashes casting fair shadows onto her cheeks.

She rolled over in her sleep to face him, still smiling, her closed eyelids looking bruised with tiredness. George remembered a time when his dear Elizabeth had been a child, and she had laughed at his terrible jokes and chased him around the garden. He remembered when she had got a little older, and he had visited her home and discovered a strange yearning for her that he did not understand at the time.

He remembered also when she had come to court, and they had spent an entire year just flirting with one another. She had been so innocent, though even then he had sometimes seen a flash of something undetectable in her eyes. But she had been sweet, and naive, and a maid untouched.

He thought about the first time he had kissed her as he wound strands of her hair around his fingertips. How their lips had burned with desire, how they had to force themselves to move away from one another.

Then the first time he had lain with her...he still smiled to think of it. How hesitant she had been, how confused and scared. She was a quick learner, he had to confess. He had coached and trained her in how to please a man, how to touch and how to kiss. She knew enough tricks now to make a very decent living as a whore, he realised.

For a moment, George's smile faded. He regretted, in that instant, turning her into a whore. He regretted taking her innocence and her maidenhead just for a minute.

In that minute, Elizabeth woke. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily at him, sitting up like he was, rubbing her eyes. The sheets slipped and showed more of her than would usually be decent.

"Why are you not sleeping?" she asked, reaching out to caress his face with the smooth palm of her hand. Her fingertips traced his lips and brows, smoothed out the lines of concern on his forehead.

"Do you resent me for taking your innocence?" George asked abruptly. She moved her hand away from him, laughing in surprise.

"Was I ever innocent?" she asked, frowning.

"Well, yes, of course! What about when I first lay with you, and you had no idea what you were doing and you bled on the sheets?"

Elizabeth giggled, "I don't really remember that night very much. It is really quite a blur now. It was the night before my wedding, wasn't it?"

"Yes!" George couldn't help laughing with relief, "At least I know now that you are not worried about it, for you do not even remember!"

Elizabeth laughed too, "I guess I have been a whore for so long that I don't know any different now" she smiled suddenly, reaching out to lightly graze her fingernails over his chest, "Speaking of being a whore..."

George grinned, "But you were asleep. Are you not still tired?"

Elizabeth simply grinned back wickedly, grabbing him by the shoulders and rolling him so that he lay on top of her, "You can make me tired, if you like"


	25. Flirtation

**A/N: This one came to me while I was listening to this song about two minutes ago. It's just a sort of drabble, really, about the first year of Elizabeth's life at court, when she and George started flirting. Listen to this whole song, it's another one that's perfect for them as a couple! Please read and review!**

_I cant fight this feeling any longer  
And yet Im still afraid to let it flow  
What started out as friendship, has grown stronger  
I only wish I had the strength to let it show  
And even as I wander  
Im keeping you in sight  
Youre a candle in the window  
On a cold, dark winters night  
And Im getting closer than I ever thought I might  
And I cant fight this feeling anymore – Can't fight this feeling, Glee Version._

"Mistress Elizabeth! How glad I am to see you" George bowed with a flourish, and kissed Elizabeth's hand. She smiled. She was good at the game they played, the game of courtly love – certainly as good as he was.

"Are you indeed, Master George?" she asked, allowing the tip of her tongue to lightly graze her front teeth, letting him imagine what else she could have been doing at that moment.

"I am. I can find no partner to play a game of cards with me. Will you join me?"

"Maybe later, Master George. I must ready myself for the masque. I have misplaced my mask, you see, and it shall begin very soon. Maybe I will...play with you later" she let her voice linger caressingly on the word 'play', smirking as she did so. He nodded solemnly.

"Of course. I shall take a care to look out for you" he promised. Elizabeth smiled and dashed away.

Only a quarter of an hour later, the masque began. George recognised Elizabeth instantly. She was playing an angel in the masque, each angel having to read out a commandment. She smiled as she sang out her commandment, and looked him straight in the eye.

"You shall not commit adultery" she announced. He saw, rather than heard, her irresistible giggle as she glanced at him, and had to smile too. He had a plan. He would pretend not to recognise her, and he would gain a kiss from those sweet lips. He could wait no longer. And the next day they could pretend that it had been someone else and go back to their game.

As the court applauded, the ladies mingled with the crowd. George went straight to Elizabeth and bowed to her once more.

"Fair lady, may I beseech you for your favour?" he asked, fixing his gaze on her. She smiled at him, running her tongue over her lips in an irresistible gesture.

"My favour in what form?" she queried.

"I would beg from you a single kiss" he pleaded. She laughed, and, regardless of who watched, as it were only a game, leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He gave a low moan as her lips parted on his, and then she moved away and disappeared. Moments later, she returned, but without her mask. Many of the other ladies had also unmasked.

She looked perfectly innocent.

"Did you enjoy my performance in the masque, Master George?" she inquired sweetly. George laughed.

"I did indeed, Mistress Elizabeth. Will you play a game of cards with me now?"

"Of course" said Elizabeth, taking a seat at a small gaming table opposite him, "What shall we play?"

George explained the game of rummy to her and she nodded, taking it all in. Aurora and Anne were watching them from a distance, laughing at their flirtation.

"I shall bet you my gold" George decided, dropping some coins onto the table.

"I have nothing to bet" Elizabeth sighed, "Ah, I shall bet my gilt bracelet"

She unhooked the catch on the bracelet and placed it carefully beside the coins. Under the table her foot brushed slowly, lightly, up and down George's leg. She did it so innocently that it seemed as if she were simply being absentminded.

"I win!" George declared triumphantly, throwing down his cards. Elizabeth scowled.

"Very well then" she said, as he scooped up the gold and fastened the bracelet around his wrist, "But, Master George, every time you look at that bracelet, you must promise to think of me"

"Oh, I will" George agreed, remembering with pleasure the feel of her mouth on his, "Let us have a dance"

"Oh yes" Elizabeth agreed breathily, smirking at her own cunning. She curtsied low to him, then looked up, half-laughing at the longing expression on his face, "Let us dance"


	26. Dream

**A/N: Please read and review, this one is set in January 1536, the day Anne miscarried her baby. I hope it's not too depressing.**

_Stars shining bright above you  
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"  
Birds singing in the sycamore tree  
Dream a little dream of me – Dream a little dream, Mama Cass._

Elizabeth shivered, squinting in an effort to see through the mist that surrounded her. She pulled her shawl tighter around her, and stepped into the maze.

She did not know where she was – it was not a place that she recognised. She turned a corner in the maze, dragging her right hand along the hedges so that she would not lose her way. The leaves dripped rainwater onto her silken gown.

She saw herself, then, standing there. It was strange, Elizabeth thought, so very strange. The Elizabeth that she saw was different to how she looked now. She looked as though she had aged. She was very pale, her hands coated in blood, her eyes misty and wild.

"Don't go any further" the other Elizabeth ordered, her voice vague and distant, though she was standing right there.

"What happened to you? To me?" Elizabeth asked the vision anxiously, holding tighter to her rosary.

The other Elizabeth did not reply. She stood there quite silently. Elizabeth heard light footsteps on the bracken. Three small, ghostly children had joined the other Elizabeth. There was Alice, her beloved Alice, her dark curls wild, her eyes blank, her face grey. Beside her was Margaret, looking much the same as her older sister. Between the two young girls was a small boy, a ghostly yet handsome child, staring at the real Elizabeth as if he were trying to tell her something very important.

"What is happening?" asked Elizabeth, raising her voice, "What have you done to my children? Who is the boy?"

"Go no further" the other Elizabeth pleaded, "Please, do not walk on"

She disappeared then, she and the three children. Elizabeth ignored her warning and continued on her path.

She saw Anne then, as she turned the corner. Anne was smiling, a truly mad smile, and blood had pooled and stained her skirts crimson, and was dripping onto the ground below.

She laughed a frightening laugh, "No more, no more" she sang out, "Walk no more!"

Anne, too, disappeared, leaving a cackle of frenzied laughter on the air.

Elizabeth, trembling with dread, carried on her way. She turned a final corner and was finally in the centre of the maze. She fell backwards, gasping, horrified by what she saw.

George, her George, the love of her life, standing before her, holding his own head in one hand and an executioner's axe in the other, his neck still gushing out blood.

Elizabeth screamed.

"No!" she choked, barely able to breathe.

"What's the matter, Bess? I've had a haircut!" George's head joked. Elizabeth burst into tears. She started to run, but he staggered after her. She crashed into Mark Smeaton, his limbs torn and useless, his eyes puffy with bruising. She pushed past him, screaming, and crashed into Anne. Anne was cradling a bloody mass of flesh that looked vaguely like a child in her arms, and a thin line of blood circled her long, pale neck.

The three of them circled round her and Elizabeth screamed and screamed, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

"Elizabeth! Bess, what is it?"

Elizabeth opened her eyes, gasping for breath. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her throat felt raw. She was in her bed, George beside her. He was looking at her with concern, his eyes dark with worry.

"What ever happened to you?" he cried softly, brushing away her tears. She flung her arms round him and snuggled into his chest, trying to regulate her breathing and stop her tears.

"I had the most terrible dream" she whispered, "You were there, and Anne, and Mark, and the girls and this lovely little boy...and I was there, but it wasn't me"

"You don't have to tell me about it, sweetheart" George said gently, "Don't worry yourself"

"Thank goodness that you are safe and well" Elizabeth murmured. George stroked her hair as he held her.

"Are you worried?" she asked him suddenly, her voice muffled, "About what Henry might do...now that Anne has lost their son"

George held her tighter, "I would only ever tell one person the truth of the matter, and that is you. So the truth is that I have never been so scared in all my life"

"Everything will be fine" Elizabeth assured him, trying to forget her dream.

"I know" George replied soothingly, trying to forget his fears, "I know"


	27. Reunion

**A/N: READ THIS! I thought we could use a bit of fluff as a break from the last chapter. Now, I need to explain, don't I? So. George was actually an ambassador to France during Anne's reign as Queen, but I didn't include in the fanfiction. However, I am going to include this in the book, of course. So I wanted to practice a nice reunion before I write it properly. Please read and review!**

_Wondering where I am lost without you  
And being apart ain't easy on this love affair  
Two strangers learn to fall in love again  
I get the joy of rediscovering you  
Oh girl  
you stand by me  
I'm forever yours  
faithfully – Faithfully, Journey._

Darkness had fallen by the time George Boleyn arrived at Bridewell Palace. He had ridden without stopping from the port at Dover, after a rough crossing from Calais. But he had not been able to stand waiting until morning. He had been away as an Ambassador to France for almost three months, and although they had exchanged letters, George had missed his Elizabeth more than anything.

He walked through the silent corridors. The whole court was abed, and his footsteps echoed as he walked.

She would not be with her husband that night, he knew it. She would have pleaded illnesses or pain of her courses every day for those past three months, desperate not to leave the bed which she and he so often shared. He had thought of her, those long, lonely nights in France. There had been plenty a beautiful French woman at King Francois' court, he would not deny that, but he had lain with none of them, nor wanted to. None of them were as exciting to him as Elizabeth was, or as intriguing.

George opened her chamber door – it was not locked. She was asleep, her glowing red hair fanned across her pillows. He went over to the bed, stripping down to his shirt and breeches as he walked, and slipped into the bed beside her. His arms went around her waist and he held her, pulling her close to him, pressing his nose to her hair to breathe in her scent.

She stirred at the feel of him, and turned towards him, opening her eyes. She gave a gasp of delight, reaching up to cup his face in her hands, checking that he was really there.

"You came back!" Elizabeth cried, "Oh, thank goodness you came back!"

"I missed you so much" George murmured in reply, smiling at her, "I was reminded of last time we went to Calais, and I so longed for you to be there"

Elizabeth pulled back from him a little so that she could look him straight in the eyes, "No French whores?" she asked, a little anxious.

"None" he replied, both solemnly and truthfully, "There is no-one who could ever compare to you, or hold a place in my heart as you do"

Elizabeth beamed, "Good. I did miss you so"

"And I you" he pulled her closer and kissed her lingeringly. She kissed him fiercely in return, winding her body around his.

He reached towards her and started to raise the hem of her shift, his hand caressing her thigh as he did so. She giggled, pushing him away.

"No" she taunted petulantly, "No, you can't have me"

"Why not?" George groaned, dragging her back towards him, "Three months, Elizabeth, three whole months!"

She rolled her eyes, giving a little sigh.

"If you must" she agreed, as if she were reluctant to allow it. George grinned at her, tearing away her clothes. He had her, several times, while her husband slept in the room next door, completely unaware of their screams and moans of pleasure.

"Don't ever leave me again" she ordered breathlessly afterwards, "Never"

"I won't" George gasped in reply, holding her tightly in his arms. She buried her face in his chest, smiling.

"If my husband ever heard..."she murmured, "I dread to think of the consequences"

George laughed ruefully, "As do I. But it isn't my fault that you are so loud"

"It is!" Elizabeth squealed in protest, "Honestly. You are never satisfied"


	28. Memories and Dreams

A/N: I don't think this will be too depressing, though it is set after George is dead. Still, it should be okay, I hope. Please read and review! ELIZABETH'S POV. This chapter is dedicated to Shout in a Whisper, who has just gone away to college, and I hope she is having fun!

_When my time comes  
Forget the wrong that I've done  
Help me leave behind some  
Reasons to be missed  
Don't resent me  
And when you're feeling empty  
Keep me in your memory  
Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest – Leave out all the rest, Linkin Park. _

"Mama? Mama?"

I stirred, opening my eyes reluctantly. My four year old son hovered in the doorway, and, as always, I had to banish the thought of his father from my mind.

"What is it, sweetheart?" I asked softly, so as not to wake my daughters, who slept on low beds on the floor in my large chamber. George, being the only boy, had his own small room, joined to ours by a connecting doorway and passage.

"Can I come in your bed, Mama?" George's scared, dark eyes gleamed at me in the darkness, pleading. I pulled back the sheets and gestured to him. He leapt into the bed and buried himself in my arms. I held him in return, a small smile of concern on my face.

"What is the matter?" I asked him gently.

"I had a bad dream" George sniffled. I instantly felt sympathetic. My own nightmares often woke me in the night, as I screamed until my throat was raw, and my two daughters would take it in turns to stagger out of their beds and hug me and offer me some water. It was as though they were the adults, not me.

"Did you, darling? Do you want to talk about it?" I offered.

"No" said my son firmly, shaking his head, "I want you to tell me a story"

"But it is late, and your sisters are trying to sleep, as you should be"

"Please, Mama" George begged. I sighed.

"What story would you like to hear?"

"I want you to tell me about Papa" George demanded eventually, "You always say that I am the same as him, but I don't know anything about him"

I gulped. I saw Alice's eyes open slowly as she considered George's request. She slipped out of her bed and sat at the foot of mine. Margaret followed, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"Alright then" I agreed, "Alice and Margaret can help me"

"What did he like to do?" George asked curiously. I blushed, thinking of all the things my lover had liked to do that could not possibly be repeated to my wonderfully naive son. Alice saw my reddening cheeks and gave a little giggle. Margaret had not noticed – she was thinking.

"He liked to buy us presents" she said at last, "He bought us lots of new dresses and toys, because he and Mama could not see us all the time. He used to send us a present every month because he was rich. He was a Lord"

"A Lord?" my son was already in awe of his father – even at that young age, he knew the importance of being a Lord.

"Yes" I said, "He loved us all very much. He was a wonderful poet, too, like Alice is now. He used to sing these lovely songs that he had written himself, he had the most lovely voice. Sometimes he would be very clever and put his poems to music"

"He liked horses, too, didn't he, Mama?" Alice put in thoughtfully, "He had a lovely black horse called Quill, and he used to ride him all the time. He had hawks, too, you know the big birds, George?"

George nodded.

"Well, he had lots of those" Alice continued, "He spent lots of money on them, he liked to do hawking with them"

I nodded, "He did indeed. When he was a little boy, he wanted to be a soldier, like you do, or an ambassador"

"And he looked like you" Margaret added, "Alice looks like him too. I look like Mama, but we all have his eyes"

George leaned forward to look closely at the eyes of his sisters, "Black eyes?"

"Yes" I agreed, "Black eyes. And he had lovely dark curly hair, like you and Alice do, and he was pale, too. He was also very, very handsome" I tickled my son until he squirmed, "So one day you will be very handsome too"

"Can I see your picture of him? You show it to Alice and to Margaret but never to me" George pleaded. I leaned closer to him and opened the locket with a click. We all looked down at the two pictures inside.

I looked blissfully happy in my miniature, and I remembered those days with a pain in my chest. I had my arms raised above my head as if I were dancing, and I was laughing too. George looked happy too, in his more formal miniature. But I could see there, the quirk at the side of his mouth that was always there when he smiled, the dimple in his cheek, the curl of hair that never stayed in place.

"Pretty Mama" said George, pointing to my picture, "I do look like Papa"

"Yes" I laughed fondly at him, "Now, come on, let us go back to bed"

"No, wait!" cried George, "You went to court when you were young. I want you to tell me about the King!"

Alice and Margaret both saw the way that my face clouded over, and I saw the fury in their eyes at the mention of the man that had signed their father and aunt's death warrants.

"What did I do?" asked George, worried, reading our faces.

"We don't like to talk about the King" I told him slowly, "The King is one of the people that killed your father"

"Oh. Sorry, Mama" George, suitably chastened, snuggled down into the bed and was asleep in moments. Alice and Margaret had not moved.

"Did you hear the latest news from the city?" asked Alice suddenly, "King Henry is not happy with his new German bride"

"Oh!" Margaret exclaimed, "But she seemed so lovely when we saw her entrance into London"

"To tell you the truth, I am not surprised" I admitted in a low voice, "She is no Anne Boleyn"

They both smiled feebly, and shuddered, at the mention of their beloved Aunt's name.

"They say he is becoming enamoured of another" said Alice, "A Kathryn Howard"

"Anne's cousin?" I asked, astonished, "I met her, once, when she was a child. I went with Anne and George to visit the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk. Little Kathryn was staying there. She was a lovely child"

"As long as she doesn't meet the same fate as her cousins" Alice mumbled, wide-eyed. I nodded forlornly.

"Let's go to sleep" I suggested. My daughters slipped into their own beds. As I lay there, cuddling my son in my arms, I saw the first George, standing in the corner, smiling at me in approval.

The illusions of his ghost came almost every day. I would never know if it really was his ghost, or if it was just my imagination. Yet they seemed so real that I was sure he was watching over me.

He watched me, a sad look in his eyes.

"Kathryn Howard?" I asked, so softly that I could barely hear my own voice, "Will she live to tell her tale?"

He shook his head, looking so forlorn I felt my heart would break, and he disappeared.


	29. First Real Meeting

**A/N: READ THIS! This is how George and Elizabeth meet again upon Elizabeth's arrival at court in the book version. I wanted to practice because I'm about a chapter away from writing that bit. Please read and review, thank you to all the lovely faithful people that do!**

_Drinking old cheap bottles of wine  
Saying things we haven't for a while, a while yeah  
We're smiling but we're close to tears  
Even after all these years  
We just now got the feeling that we're meeting  
For the first time – For the first time, The Script._

George glanced across the courtyard with Francis, the two of them eagerly eyeing the carriages that were pulling up, containing the Queen's new ladies.

"I wouldn't mind breaking her in" Francis murmured appreciatively, gesturing to a buxom blonde who was clutching a spaniel and looking far too confident for court.

"Not I, thank you very much" George frowned, eyeing the girl with disdain, "I have never really had a thing for women like that. She looks far too much like dear Mary"

Francis snorted, "Please yourself" he grinned, dashing off to help the girl with her luggage, as though he were some common servant.

George continued to look around him, then found himself gazing, completely frozen, at a young lady stepping down from a carriage. She looked vaguely familiar to him, yet he could not place her. She was stunning, too beautiful for words. Her hair was copper and red, her eyes blue and glittering. She wore a dusky pink gown with gold detail that presented her breasts to their fullest advantage, as well as emphasising her narrow waist and wide hips.

She jumped down, laughing, to help her companion from the carriage. The dark-haired beauty also looked vaguely familiar, and just as lovely. Yet his gaze was once again drawn to the giggling redhead.

George began to walk towards them, still in a daze, and bowed to them both.

"Ladies, I am glad to welcome you both here at court" he kissed the hand of the dark-haired girl, and the hand of the redhead, but his lips lingered for longer on the latter.

The redhead began to giggle, a smile brightening her face, though there was hurt in her eyes.

"Do you not recognise me, Master George?" she asked, a little reproachful, "Maybe I ought to write a letter of introduction to you, since you would surely recognise my signature"

The answer came to George at once, and he was shocked by it, "Elizabeth?"

"Of course!" Elizabeth grinned. George turned to the dark-haired girl and embraced her warmly.

"Then you are Aurora" he said "I do apologise"

"No matter" said Aurora, eyeing up a blonde haired man nearby, "Do give me a moment" she added, drifting towards him. George looked back to Elizabeth.

"I am sorry. But you look so..different. You have grown so much"

"I should hope so. I was a child and I came up to your waist last time you saw me" she gave him a too-innocent smile, "And that could be rather awkward now that I am old enough to know the ways of the world, could it not?"

George gulped, "Yes, I suppose so"

Elizabeth giggled again, "I am a little offended that you did not recognise me"

"To tell the truth, Mistress Elizabeth, I was looking for a new whore, not an old friend"

Elizabeth did not look shocked or annoyed by his statement. She just smiled a slow and sensuous smile like he had never seen before, and bit suggestively on her lip.

"Sometimes there is no need to differentiate between the two" she said, her voice soft. George's eyes widened. Was his sweet and innocent childhood companion really suggesting what he thought she was suggesting?

"Now, come along. I want to meet everyone that you tell me about in your letters!" said Elizabeth gaily, grabbing on to his arm and pressing close by his side, "I want to meet your friends! I want to meet the King and the Queen! I want to see Mary and Anne again!"

George nodded, still stunned by her almost-offer, "Yes, of course. I shall show you everyone and everything"

"Oh good" said Elizabeth with a light, flirtatious laugh, "Because I do wish to see absolutely everything, Master George. I want to see everything that you can possibly show me"


	30. Control Us

**A/N: Set after George's trial when Elizabeth got all angry and shouted at her husband. A conversation between George's wife Jane and Elizabeth's husband Phillip. I hate both of them, which is weird because one of them is my own creation. Please read and review!**

_Green belts wrapped around our minds and endless  
Red tape to keep the truth confined, so come on  
They will not force us  
And they will stop degrading us  
And they will not control us  
We will be victorious, so come on – Uprising, Muse._

Phillip stumbled out of the courtroom in a state of shock. His mind could not comprehend his 'discovery' of a few weeks before. He had suspected that his wife had been warming the bed of another man for a few years, but only a few days ago had he realised that maybe it was someone that he had never suspected. Elizabeth's scene in the courtroom had just proved it.

She was in love with George Boleyn. It wasn't an affair. It wasn't just that she was whoring for him – it was deeper than that. She loved him, truly.

Phillip slumped against the wall, massaging his temples to try and erase the thoughts from his head.

"Did you not know?"the voice, cold and cool and slippery, came from directly in front of him. Phillip opened his eyes.

"No" he said shortly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at George's wife, "Did you?"

"Yes" she said, her voice so strangely cool, "Why do you think I am doing this?"

"Doing what?" Phillip frowned in confusion, his headache growing.

Jane laughed bitterly, "Destroying my own husband"

Phillip's eyes widened, "Then you are lying about him?"

"Of course" said Jane, steadily, as if talking to a child, "I want him to die. I want to destroy him for cuckolds he has given me. And I want to destroy her too, that shameless wife of yours, that hussy. I want to break her" she paused, "Don't' you?"

Phillip considered. When he pictured George dead, he felt a small sense of loss for a man that he had never particularly liked, but who was a great poet and a reformer to boot. When he pictured Elizabeth broken-hearted, he felt sorry for her, his naive little wife.

But then he began to think. He thought about those times that he had woken in the night and thought that he had heard Elizabeth's voice, or her laugh, or her moans of delight. Each and every time he had shaken it off as a dream and thought no more of it. But now, when he pictured it, her, his wife, with that man...he shuddered.

"Yes" he growled angrily, "I want to destroy them both"

"Good" said Jane smoothly, "And when they are gone, then we will both be free to marry again, to men and women that we can find that appreciate us"

"Yes" Phillip agreed, imagining a wife who would always be smiling and gay, who would treat him with the proper degree of wifely devotion, and give him sons. Jane's mind wandered to a man, identical to George, but who would value her thoughts and opinions, who would love her and want her. They both prayed that the time would soon come.

"That whore of a wife of yours will leave, once my husband is dead" Jane mused, "She will run away to the country with her brothel-ready daughters and give birth to the bastard that she now carries in her belly"

"Another child?" Phillip cried, "And none of them mine?"

"Indeed. A terrible shame" Jane responded. Then she smiled, a truly wicked smile.

"When they are gone, they will no longer degrade us, or control us, or cuckold us ever again" she said with relish, "We must thank God for small mercies"

Phillip watched her walk away, then turned the corridor towards his rooms.

He ignored his wife, on her knees in the corridor, sobbing and screaming as if she would never be whole again.

**A/N 2: Yes, this was very anti-Jane. Sorry, Shout In A Whisper (it feels weird calling you that now that I know you so well!)! **


	31. Kathryn Howard

**A/N: I wrote before about how Elizabeth once met little Kathryn Howard when Kathryn was a child. So I thought I'd write the actual meeting down, as Kitty is definitely my second favourite Queen! After Anne, of course. Please read and review! Set in 1527, when Kathryn was six.**

_The more you dream about me the more that I believe  
That nothings ever out of reach  
So dream, dream, dream  
I breathe your visions  
They pull me through the coldest of nights  
They steer me towards that moment in time – Dream._

"Please, George" Anne whined, "Please. I like the Duchess, I really do, but she scares me a little. She expects so much of me, now that I am Henry's"

"Only because you expect so much of yourself" George sighed, "No, Anne, not today"

"But she is our step-grandmother! Please" Anne begged. George sighed again, heavily, thinking about the day he had planned for himself and Elizabeth. They would row a little boat out onto the Thames and enjoy the sunshine, maybe stop at a monastery for their midday meal, before taking a walk through the city to enjoy the peasant's products that were sold on the market. Then they would row back just in time for supper, and a night of dancing and romance. He had planned it so well, and Elizabeth was so looking forward to it. He could not let her down.

George darted a look her way and saw that she had been listening to them all along, her head cocked slightly to the side. She had a small smile on her lips as she rose from her seat.

"I understand" she said patiently, "But can I come with you? The Dowager Duchess sounds such a fascinating character, I have long wanted to meet her"

"Of course" George agreed instantly, sliding an arm around her waist. Anne groaned.

"Alright. But I cannot wait to see what the Duchess thinks when she sees that you have brought along your whore"

"Good day to you, Madam" Anne stepped out to the Dowager Duchess first, curtseying prettily, then embracing her step-grandmother as if this sour old woman was her favourite person in the world. The Duchess hugged her back warmly.

"Anne, darling, I am so proud! You have done so well, all us Howards shall profit from your cleverness!" the Dowager Duchess cooed. Anne preened under the praise. George pantomimed retching behind her and Elizabeth giggled.

"And my lovely George!" the Dowager Duchess cried, "Oh, aren't you terribly handsome? Who is this stunning young lady? Is this your wife Jane?"

"No" George mumbled, looking embarrassed. Elizabeth squirmed under the Duchess' piercing gaze.

"Elizabeth was one of our playmates when we were children at Hever" Anne put in quickly, sensing the couple's mortification.

"Yes, indeed I was, Madam" said Elizabeth hurriedly, curtseying also. The Duchess gave her a sly smile that made Elizabeth feel much calmer.

"Grandmama! Grandmama! Thomas keeps – " a small, delicate girl who had been running towards them skidded to halt in front of the group, her eyes widening. She was a pretty little thing, with wild auburn curls and beautiful green-brown eyes. Although her clothes were tattered and her fingers stained with ink and grass stains, when she smiled her whole being was transformed. Her gaze was fixed on Anne.

"Good day to you all" she said in quite a different voice, curtseying to them all. The Duchess laughed affectionately at the child.

"This is Kathryn Howard, your cousin. I have told her all about your achievements at court, Anne" the Duchess said proudly, pushing the girl forward. Kathryn beamed at her cousin. Anne, who was often awkward with other women, especially ones that were children, smiled at the girl and crouched down before her.

"Hello, Kathryn. How old are you?"

"Six" said Kathryn with pride. She glanced behind Anne, towards George and Elizabeth.

"This is my brother George, your cousin, and our friend Elizabeth" Anne explained, gesturing to the two of them. George did not move, but Elizabeth walked cautiously towards the girl and knelt down in front of her with Anne.

"Hello" she said brightly. Kathryn beamed at her, too.

"You are very pretty, Kathryn" said Anne, "Maybe one day I will be able to send for you to come to court"

"When you are Queen?" asked Kathryn eagerly. Anne glanced sternly at the Duchess.

"You mustn't fill her with too much hope, Madam" she cautioned. The Duchess flapped away this notion with a wave of her hand, and Anne turned back to Kathryn.

"Yes" she replied in a whisper, "When I am Queen"

Elizabeth and George exchanged panicked glances at Anne's confidence, but Kathryn just looked excited.

"Here, Kathryn. Do you see this necklace?" Anne held it out, the emerald glittering in the light. Kathryn nodded.

"It would look very pretty with your eyes. Do you like it?"

"Yes!" Kathryn squeaked, quite overwhelmed. Anne laughed at her. She looked at Elizabeth pointedly, and her friend rose from the grass to unclasp the necklace from her friend's long neck.

Anne handed the jewelled necklace to the wide-eyed child in front of her. Kathryn's smile lit up her entire face.

"Thank you!" she squealed excitedly, flinging her arms around Anne and then Elizabeth. Anne laughed at her and ruffled her curls.

"Goodbye, Kathryn. Be very careful, and be a good girl. One day you are going to be very beautiful, and some men may treat you badly for it. But you will be powerful too, little Kathryn, because you are a Howard girl"

Kathryn nodded very solemnly and watched them climb onto the carriage with a grin, the emerald swinging from her closed fist.

"Sweet kid" Anne mused when the door was closed and they had begun to trundle away.

"She reminds me of you and Mary when you were six" George grinned, "Adorably demanding. You can't help but look at her"

Elizabeth peered out of the hatch and saw that the little girl was running after them, her skirts held high, waving enthusiastically.

Elizabeth was the only one who waved back.


	32. Pregnant

**A/N: Just a short, fluffy scene from when Elizabeth is pregnant with Alice. Please read and review!**

_I can see it your face is glowing  
I can see it in your eyes.  
I'm happy you know it  
That you're having my baby.  
You're the woman I love and I love what its doin to ya Having my baby  
you're a woman in love and I love  
What's goin' through you - Having my Baby, Glee Version._

"As the holly groweth green, with ivy all alone, when flowers cannot be seen , and green-wood leaves be gone..."

George followed Elizabeth's sweet voice into the room that he had once practised his music in. She was sitting in the bay of the window, looking exhausted but happy. She had not changed out of her white nightgown, and was laying on the window seat, her belly bulging out, full and round. As she daydreamed her hand massaged her belly very lightly. She had opened the catch on the window just slightly to allow the weak sunlight and breeze to fall on her face.

George was struck by a memory of her a few years before, still a girl, sighing over a romance novel in a seat very similar to this one, though in her own home. She had beamed to see him and her fragile body had looked far too small for her adult gowns.

Now she was a fully grown woman, her body large with his child, and the same wistful smile on her lips. She turned and spotted him there, and smiled.

"Are you thinking about how terribly ugly I look now that I am carrying your baby?" she asked with a wry smile. George went over to her and sat on the ground beside her, reaching up to hold her hand.

"Never" he smiled.

"It was moving a moment ago" she told him, placing his hand over the curve of her stomach. Her baby's little foot hammered against his palm and she smiled to see his face light up.

"Alice" she continued dreamily, "Alice for a girl and George for a boy. Do you like them?"

"Very much" George agreed, "Not long now. You shall be in your lying-in chamber when we return to court"

"I know" Elizabeth sighed, massaging her belly, "I loathe those rooms. They are so dreary and dark. Will you visit me?"

"Every day" he promised, "Are you scared?"

"A little. I dare say that I shall be worse in another month" she shrugged, "Though I wish that you might be in the room with me"

"I should like that" George nodded, "But it would be impossible"

"I know. I shall probably curse you , too" she joked, but her eyes were serious. George laughed at her.

"Thank you" he whispered, leaning down to kiss her belly and then her lips, "This is the best gift you could ever give me"

"I never really had a choice in the matter, but I am glad that you are happy" she snuggled down into the cushions that he had bought in for her, her eyes closing contentedly, "I love you"

"I love you too" George smiled, "Shall I sing you to sleep?"

"Please"

"Now unto my lady , Promise to her I make**: **From all other only , To her I me betake. Adieu, mine own lady, Adieu, my special, Who hath my heart truly, Be sure, and ever shall" he continued her song from before, and she smiled at his words as she fell into sleep.


	33. Just the way you Are

**A/N: I love this song, so much, and I thought it would be perfect for George's thoughts on Elizabeth. Please read and review!**

_Oh her eyes, her eyes  
Make the stars look like they're not shining  
Her hair, her hair  
Falls perfectly without her trying_

Elizabeth rose from the bed and pulled a robe around her naked body, darting a quick glance towards George, thinking that he was sleeping. He was not – he was simply watching her, silently, in the darkness. She pulled out a little dark wood trunk from under the bed and sat cross-legged at the end of the bed, leaning over the box. Her blue eyes glittered with satisfaction and slight exhaustion in the weak candlelight, sparkling with love when she glanced once more at his perfectly still form. Her checking on him made him more determined to watch her and see what she was doing. Besides, he wanted to know what was in the box. As she sat, her hair rolled down her back in a red-brown wave. She grew impatient with it and pinned it up messily.

She's so beautiful  
And I tell her every day  
Yeah I know, I know  
When I compliment her  
She won't believe me  
And its so, it's so  
Sad to think she don't see what I see

He wondered why she always denied it when he told her that she was beautiful. He whispered it to her every night before they slept, and she always just rolled her eyes and turned away from him, not believing that he was telling the truth.

She opened the box with her nimble fingers, leaning over it protectively, though he could still see. It was a warm night, and she had obviously noticed – checking once again that George was 'asleep', she shrugged out of the robe and sat there in the golden light, completely naked. George had to stop himself from grabbing her and letting her know that he most certainly was awake.

_But every time she asks me do I look okay  
I say  
When I see your face  
There's not a thing that I would change  
Cause you're amazing  
Just the way you are  
And when you smile,  
The whole world stops and stares for awhile  
Cause girl you're amazing  
Just the way you are  
_

The smile on her face was stunning as she lifted a stack of parchment from the box. She flipped through the notes, her cheeks flushed with warmth and her eyebrows raised as if what she was reading was a pleasant shock to her, even though she had obviously read it many times. She put the papers to one side and George recognised his own signature at the bottom of the page. She had kept all the letters that he had ever sent her. He smiled.

_Her lips, her lips  
I could kiss them all day if she'd let me  
Her laugh, her laugh  
She hates but I think its so sexy  
_

Her lips, the colour of crimson blood, were still set in a warm smile as she continued to pull things out of the box – a golden mask, a sash from a masquerade. He studied her smiling mouth hungrily, remembering the taste of them, sweet as honey, and the softness of them, like the skin of a peach. As she pulled out another item she laughed softly, a mere echo of her usual laugh, like the pealing of bells, which she always tried to cover up. He himself suppressed a laugh when he saw the white feather that she had pulled out, from the mask she had worn in Calais.

_She's so beautiful  
And I tell her every day  
Oh you know, you know, you know  
I'd never ask you to change  
If perfect is what you're searching for  
Then just stay the same_

She was all he could have ever wanted, and so much more. She expressed a glow that kept his eyes always on her, his mind always thinking of her, his heart aching over her. Elizabeth shifted her position and laid on her belly, so that she was far too close to him, wonderfully so. She found the seal of office from the King that he had given her on her first day of court, when she so desperately wanted to know anything and everything about Bluff King Hal and court life. Her skin glowed pale and luminous as the moon while she studied the seal, then put that, too, to one side.

So don't even bother asking  
If you look okay  
You know I say  
When I see your face  
There's not a thing that I would change  
Cause you're amazing  
Just the way you are  
And when you smile,  
The whole world stops and stares for awhile  
Cause girl you're amazing  
Just the way you are

It amazed George, even now, that she was his, all his, and that she had fallen for him as deeply as he had for her. He had seen the way that men looked at her, how much they wanted her, and could only be grateful that he had gotten there first. For a woman so desirable, she had never seemed to desire any other man.

She yawned, obviously exhausted, and decided to look at the rest of the box's contents another time. As she put the items back into the box, George saw that a few of the tips of her nails were caked slightly in his blood. His back and chest were still stinging from her scratches, but somehow it only made him love and want her more.

_The way you are  
The way you are  
Girl you're amazing  
Just the way you are_

"Elizabeth?" he whispered at last, his voice small from being unused for so long. She jumped, her eyes widening.

"Heavens, you startled me! Have you been awake for long?" she did not sound as if it would bother her too much if he had, but he thought that she might like the idea of her box being private from him. So he shook his head.

"No, not long at all. You must be tired. Come to bed" he pulled back the sheets for her and she smiled, settling in beside him.

"You must be tired, too" she offered with a mischievous smile, running her fingers over his lips, "I definitely am. I ache all over"

"Then you definitely want to sleep?"

She sensed the disappointment in his voice and weakened for a moment. Then she strengthened her resolve.

"Yes" she said, giggling, "I think you have had enough for tonight"

She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. He drank in the sight of her one last time before he fell asleep. 

When I see your face  
There's not a thing that I would change  
Cause you're amazing  
Just the way you are  
And when you smile,  
The whole world stops and stares for awhile  
Cause girl you're amazing  
Just the way you are

**A/N: Hope you liked it! Song is Just The Way You Are, performed by Bruno Mars. Please REVIEW! xx**


	34. Fear and Comfort

A/N: Set in 1535, after Anne's third miscarriage, on a trip to Hever.

_Take a deep breath  
No more time left  
This is what I thought I wanted  
Why am I afraid?  
Kamikaze airplanes in the sky  
Are we going down or will we fly?  
This could be a shipwreck on the shore  
Or we could sail away forevermore – Sink or Swim, Tyrone Wells. _

"Are you alright?"

Anne looked away from the window to be greeted by her illegitimate niece, who was hovering anxiously in the doorway. She did not know how long she had spent gazing out on the gardens of her childhood home, contemplating her future. Henry had gone on a visit to Wolf Hall, the home of Sir John Seymour, so Anne had decided to take the rare opportunity to visit her nieces and her brother, who had whisked Elizabeth away from court for a few days. She felt a little guilty for ruining her brother's romantic holiday, which was most unlike her.

"Of course, Alice" Anne responded eventually, her voice calm. Alice came towards her Aunt, her face openly curious.

"You don't look very happy" Alice mused. Anne sighed inwardly. Why did children have to be so perceptive? Her own daughter was just the same.

"Of course I am happy" Anne retorted defiantly, her voice symbolising finality. Alice ignored her tone.

"Being a Queen must be quite hard" she said thoughtfully, sitting at Anne's feet, her expression rather wistful, "You get nice gowns and jewels, but you have to be nice to everybody, and give them money"

"And have a boy" said Anne without thinking. Alice's dark eyes widened.

"Oh" she mumbled, a little confused, "Why a boy?"

"To be King when I am dead, and when King Henry is dead" Anne replied, her voice low. Alice frowned.

"What about Elizabeth?" she asked. Anne laughed bitterly.

"King Henry says that Elizabeth is not good enough to have the throne. Girls are not good enough" she growled without thinking. Alice looked stricken.

"Am I not good enough?" she squeaked anxiously. For the second time, guilt flooded through Anne. She tentatively reached towards her niece and helped the little girl onto her lap.

"You are perfect for your Mama and Papa" she said gently, "But you would not be perfect for the King"

"Do you still like being a Queen?" Alice asked, her face inviting and warm. Anne smiled ruefully.

"Truly, Alice? Some days I wish that I had married for love long ago, and stuck to it, rather than being a Queen of England"

Alice nodded again, as if she understood.

"Are you scared?"

Her question hovered in the air for a few moments, like a butterfly hesitates before landing on a human hand. She looked worried, as if she feared her question had been to forward or eager.

"Yes" Anne whispered, "Yes, I am"

Alice, displaying such a sense of forwardness that even her parents, hovering outside the door, were surprised, took her Aunt's hand.

"Don't be scared" she said softly, with a timid smile. Anne smiled sadly back.

"Alice is right" George interrupted kindly, walking into the room. Elizabeth was beside him, holding onto his hand.

"You don't need to be scared, Anne" she agreed, "You are his lawful wife and his Queen. You have borne Elizabeth, you can have another child"

"How do you know?" Anne hissed, and they saw the fear in her eyes, "What if something has gone wrong inside me and I cannot have other children?"

Elizabeth touched her own stomach lightly, remembering when she had lost her baby a few years before, and thought exactly the same thing. She hadn't yet conceived another child, and Anne's fear haunted her also.

"I know that is how you feel, but Anne, I promise you , you can conceive another child. You will have another baby, a boy, and all will be well"

"Thank you, all of you" Anne smiled weakly, "Thank you Alice, especially"

Alice beamed and embraced her Aunt, "You're welcome, your majesty!" she sang out, and they all laughed.


	35. Alehouse

A/N: Sorry it's been a while, I hate school and GCSE year. Hope you all like this, I came up with it while I was at school today (Yes, I do think about fanfiction at school. I get bored a lot), please read and review! Love to all the people that do! Set in the year where all Elizabeth and George do is flirt.

_There's a place downtown,  
Where the freaks all come around.  
It's a hole in the wall.  
It's a dirty free for all._

_There's a place I know  
If you're looking for a show.  
Where they go hardcore  
And there's glitter on the floor – Take it off, Ke$ha. _

"Where are you taking me?" Elizabeth asked crossly, undeterred by the steady rocking of the wherry George had borrowed for them to glide along the Thames that sunny day. George grinned at her.

"You said to me that you wanted to know everything about me, and that you wanted to see absolutely everything. So I made it my mission to show you everything"

"But we are in the London town, now" said Elizabeth, shielding her eyes from the light as she squinted into the distance, "And we cannot be going to the marketplace, for you took me there before. And you have shown me your favourite monastery, and the little inn you stay at if you have business in the town. What else can there possibly be?"

George laughed, "There are many things that you do not know about me. Come, we shall dock here"

As they tied the wherry to the small dock, George took Elizabeth's hand to help her from the small boat. He gestured to a brick building in front of them that looked as if it had been in use for many years. There was a small sign hanging over the doorway that rattled in the springtime breeze, but it was so filthy that Elizabeth could not read it.

"What is it?" she queried, her nose screwed up in disdain, "Where are we?"

George grinned again, "This is a public house" he told her, smirking. Elizabeth gasped.

"Good Heavens! I shan't go in there! I am a lady, you know!"

George chuckled, "Oh, come along, _Lady _Elizabeth! I promised you every experience of my life, and this is one you shall have"

Elizabeth sighed and reluctantly dragged her feet as George took her arm and pulled her into the alehouse. The place was dark, a few candles here and there barely illuminating the place at all. The floors and walls were dark wood, and there was one long table in the centre of the room, for parties of travellers or soldiers, surrounded by several smaller tables. There were several men that looked fairly well-to-do, though they were all very drunk, and some of the poorer peasants and labourers too. There were women, some of them pretty and innocent looking, but most of them heavily powdered and plastered with make-up, their hair teased into stiff curls, little black spots of beauty pricked onto their faces with coal. Elizabeth shuddered.

"Are all the women here whores?" she asked George in a horrified whisper as he guided her to a table.

"Yes, of course. I know many of them personally"

"Personally?" Elizabeth repeated, her voice shrill, "Did many others of the court come here?"

"Oh, indeed. There is a small circle of us, you see "George responded quite calmly.

Elizabeth nodded, "Alright" she agreed, "I suppose I can understand that. Some of the women at court are awfully prim and proper"

George snorted, pushing a mug of ale towards her, "But aren't you awfully prim and proper today yourself? Here, try this. I think you'll like it"

Elizabeth took and sip from the mug, then pulled it back and drained it, "Yes, I like it" she concluded. George laughed loudly.

"And I am not prim and proper!" Elizabeth continued fiercely, "I can do anything I want, when I like"

"Oh, really?" George raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "Show me"

Elizabeth smiled, scanning the room, and spotted a fairly handsome young man coming towards her. As he stopped before her, she beamed at him from her seat.

"Can I help you, Sir?" she asked him sweetly. He seemed taken aback.

"I thought you were a lady, from the way yer dressed" he muttered, bemused. Elizabeth laughed, standing up to join him.

"I am a lady" she responded, pulling him towards her and pressing her lips forcefully onto his. He was soon kissing her back, though Elizabeth kept her eyes open to see George's reaction to her behaviour. He had gone very pale and his eyes were angry and envious. Elizabeth smirked.

She pushed the man away and took her seat beside George once more. She grinned at him.

"Am I still prim and proper?" she retorted smugly. George smiled back as an idea popped into his head.

"Kiss me like you kissed him" he asked, slurring his words on purpose. Elizabeth grinned, realising what he was doing.

"You're drunk" she accused. George just smiled sloppily back.

"Go on" he pleaded. Elizabeth laughed and moved towards him, grabbing him by the material of his doublet to pull him closer. She knew that tomorrow they would pretend that they had been so drunk that they had forgotten the day entirely.

She pressed her lips to his and wanted to dance around with triumph when she heard him moan as her lips parted on his. His hands gripped tightly either side of her waist as his lips parted also and her tongue moved inside his mouth. He pulled her closer, so that she was almost sitting upon his knee, and his hand slid up towards her breast. That was the moment she chose to push him away again and rise from her seat.

"Come on. Let us go home" Elizabeth demanded, a smug smile on her lips, "I am weary of this"


	36. Papa Can You Hear Me?

**A/N: Watching Glee a couple of weeks ago I fell in love with this song, and am listening to it now, thinking it would be perfect for a little father-daughter thing between George and Alice. But then I thought, hm, Alice is the main character in the sequel. So I decided to make it Margaret instead. Please read and review!**

_God – our heavenly Father._  
_Oh, God – and my father_  
_Who is also in heaven._  
_May the light_  
_Of this flickering candle_  
_Illuminate the night the way_  
_Your spirit illuminates my soul_

Margaret rose from her bed, careful not to wake anyone else in the room. Her sister Alice slept in another low cot beside her, her mother in the large bed that took up most of the room. George was in his own room with Eric, probably dreaming the dreams that only a child can.

Margaret had ceased to be a child when her Father died five years ago.

She had been unable to sleep for thinking, and slipped silently out of the room, dragging her grey blanket with her. She heaved this around her shoulders and began to make her way out into the night, a rosary clutched in her hand. She lit a candle in a dish along the way, exiting the house through the servants entrance. She watched the candle flicker in the breeze as she sat on the grassy hillock, then gazed at the stars above her.

_"Papa, can you hear me?_  
_Papa, can you see me?_  
_Papa, can you find me in the night?"_

Margaret called out for her father, her voice tentative and longing. She pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders.

_"Papa, are you near me?_  
_Papa, can you hear me?_  
_Papa, can you help me not be frightened?"_

Margaret felt a chill rush up and down her spine, and looked anxiously around her, fear in her blue eyes. Though young, she felt she had made many mistakes already that her father would not be proud of. She adored him so, and the thought of him looking down upon her with disdain made her feel such penitence as the church could never have given her.

_"Looking at the skies_  
_I seem to see a million eyes_  
_Which ones are yours?_  
_Where are you now that yesterday_  
_Has waved goodbye_  
_And closed its doors?"_

Her Mama always told George that her Father was not gone from them, but watched them from above, the light from his twinkling eyes that Margaret remembered so well twinkling like the stars above.

She wished that she could see him one more time. She had loved him so dearly, and had been almost as broken-hearted as her poor mother when he had left them.

She had been very young then, though with knowledge more than she should have had. But it had made her grow and bloom into a woman, though not one that she was entirely proud to be.

_"The night is so much darker._  
_The wind is so much colder_

_The world I see is so much bigger now that I'm alone."_

She tried to explain to her beloved Papa how she felt, that she wanted to see him more than anything, while the icy chill wind whistled around her and the black night fell like a heavy cloak upon her shoulders.

_"Papa, please forgive me._  
_Try to understand me._  
_Papa, don't you know I had no choice?"_

She was even lying in her prayers, she realized with exasperation. She had had a choice about all of the mistakes she had made that seemed so massive to her.

_"Can you hear me praying,_  
_Anything I'm saying,_  
_Even though the night is filled with voices?"_

Giving herself to the lad from the nearby town who now insisted upon visiting her for a repeat performance whenever he could. Stealing money from the church in that year when she and her family were as poor as church mice, before Kitty Howard came to throne and got them a pension that they so deserved. For sometimes lashing out at her mother or Alice or George because sometimes she just could not contain how angry and scared she was that there was still a gaping hole in her heart, an empty space inside her.

_"I remember everything you taught me_  
_Every book I've ever read._  
_Can all the words in all the books_  
_Help me to face what lies ahead?_  
_The trees are so much taller_  
_And I feel so much smaller._  
_The moon is twice as lonely_  
_And the stars are half as bright"_

Her Father had taught her well whenever he saw her. He wanted she and Alice to grow up like their Mama, educated and beautiful and loved by a good man. He longed for them to be interested in politics and religion as he was. It worked, too – she had been clever and good once.

_"Papa, how I love you._  
_Papa, how I need you._  
_Papa, how I miss you._  
_Kissing me goodnight."_

With that, Margaret rose, blew a kiss to the stars, tears rolling in ribbons down her cheeks, and walked back up the house with the light of the candle and the stars to guide her, the blanket dragging along behind her.


	37. Our Son

A/N: This chapter will probably be kind of depressing. Sorry! Set after George's death, about Little George's birth. Please read and review!

_You have to be there, you have to  
My life I have placed in thy keep  
And without you I am drifting on a dark and rising sea  
You have to be there, you have to  
Without you I'd drown in the deep  
Too far, too far from land  
The waters drag me down  
I reach for your hand – You have to be there, Kerry Ellis._

The months after George's death were spent in a strange haze for Elizabeth.

Sometimes she would put on a brave face for her frightened and grieving daughters, who hated to see her so broken and fragile. But most days she just sat, alone, in the window seat of the room where she had once practiced her dance steps, her music and her reading, and gazed outside. She watched the spring of George and Anne's demise crumble into autumn, with leaves as bright as gold swirling past the windowpane. She watched the transition from autumn into a dark and icy winter, watched her children skate on the frost and play in the snow. She watched it all happen like a stranger to the world.

As she watched, her body grew to accommodate the growth of her child. Her son grew strong and large, kicking relentlessly at her insides, straining her bones. As she weakened, he grew stronger, and she thanked God for that, at least.

She was still beautiful, still glorious to behold – but her spark, her glow, had faded and disappeared, leaving her dull and lifeless.

Her pains began early in the morning in the middle of January. She had not slept, she did not sleep anymore, and had been gazing out into the late dawn, watching as the murky gold of the sun appeared over the hills in the distance. Only when she was doubled over in agony did she call for Aurora and the midwife.

The pains continued into the morning, when the children were awakened. Alice and Margaret were not allowed to see their mother, so Aurora's darling husband Thomas took them, as well as his own two children, on a trip to the town, to see the market and the great residence of Windsor.

Elizabeth had never felt more alone in her life. She screamed in her pain, growled through gritted teeth. The midwife shook her head – the child would not be hurried, she said, he would come in his own time.

Elizabeth wished for him to come sooner.

Aurora and midwife settled her down for a long day and maybe even a long night. Aurora read to her from the Bible, though Elizabeth had given up on the Bible a few weeks after George's death, when it refused to take the pain away. But now she was ready to hear God's words again, if it meant the pain would go away. Still, maybe she deserved the suffering, maybe it was her fault that George was dead...

She gave way to another scream of pain, before it subsided. She lay down again, breathing shallowly.

The midwife and Aurora left the room to find her some water and anything else to give her comfort.

"God help me" Elizabeth groaned, her fists clenched on the sheets, "Help me"

She knew it then, with absolute clarity, better than she had ever known anything. George was with her. He was there, in that room, as she was about to give birth. He had not held her hand when the girls were born, nor had he mopped her brow or distracted her with storytelling, but he was there at that moment.

When the midwife came back with Aurora anxiously in tow, they inquired as to what Elizabeth was holding onto. She did not tell them that it was the hand of her dead lover, as they would not believe her. But she could feel the warmth of his smooth hand in hers, she could feel the tiny dents in his hands from where he held his quill so often. She knew him so well that she knew it was him.

The labour lasted longer than any of them had expected, well into the night. The children were outside, stubbornly refusing to go to their beds. But all the time, George was there, and Elizabeth drew comfort from him, thanking God for this blessing that she could only have imagined before.

Her son was bought into the world almost a day after her pains had started, when she was exhausted and weary. She held him in her arms and felt it all over again – the maternal instinct, the motherly love that she felt for all her children, though she had shown it less and less lately. She held him close.

"He is healthy" said the midwife with pride, as though it had been her that gave life to the child, "What will you name him?"

Elizabeth looked to Aurora and gave her first smile in nine months.

"His name will be George" she said, firm, "He will be George for his Father"

She almost thought she heard George's thanks and his declaration of love before a chill swept over her and she knew he was gone. But she had her son now. Her son, already with a few of his father's dark curls sprouting from his head and the dark Boleyn eyes sparkling up at her.

"I will never let anything happen to you, my sweetheart" she declared, kissing the child's warm fist, "I will be a good mother to all of you"

And for the first time in nine months, Elizabeth called for her daughters. They scrambled onto the bed beside her and she held them in her arms as they gazed at their baby brother, and she vowed never to let them go.


	38. Last Day at Hever

**A/N: This is set the last time that George and Elizabeth go to visit Hever before George dies, and George sort of has a feeling that something is going to happen to him, even though Elizabeth only thinks that it is Anne that could get hurt. Please read and review!**

_In my beginning there was nothing so empty in the space between  
And you came in turned the lights on and created what it's came to be  
Before I pluck your wings cover me please spread your wings cover me and  
Promise this; if I die before I wake  
Promise this; take a time to say your grace  
On your knees you pray for me  
Promise this; be the last to kiss my lips – Promise this, Cheryl Cole. _

"Alice! Margaret!" Elizabeth skidded to a halt and leapt down from her horse eagerly, wobbling a little upon landing. George jumped down to join her, handing the reins of their horses to the waiting stablehand.

"Careful" George cautioned, gripping Elizabeth's arm to steady her, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine" Elizabeth huffed, "Don't you fuss over me"

George grinned, "Are you not used to my fussing?"

Elizabeth grinned back, "I suppose. Girls, where are you?"

"Mama, Papa!" Margaret came flying towards them like a hurricane, arms outspread. Elizabeth beamed at the sight of her youngest child and held out her own arms. Margaret hugged her tightly then leapt up at her Papa, who scooped her up in his arms as though to carry her along. Alice emerged from a bush, looking slightly disgruntled.

"You were supposed to hide, Meg" she scolded, though not severely. She smiled at her parents and hugged them both.

"I missed you" she declared, "Will you stay for a long time?"

"Just for today, I am afraid, darling" said Elizabeth regretfully, "We will be with you all day today, and sleep here tonight, and leave at dawn tomorrow, before you wake"

"Oh" Alice looked a little deflated, "Alright. Can we have a fun day today?"

George, still holding Margaret, reached down to ruffle her black curls, "Definitely" he promised, "Mama wrote to the cook last week to get her to organise a picnic for us to take down to the lake. Would you like that?"

"Yes!"the girls chorused.

An hour or so later George and Elizabeth were cantering down to Hever's lake with their daughters. Margaret sat in front of George on his horse, and Alice with Elizabeth on her palfrey. They would swap around on their return.

"Can we go swimming, Papa?" Margaret asked excitedly, spotting the shimmering water just ahead of them.

"If you like" George agreed, exchanging a fond glance with Elizabeth. Much of their childhood and some of their adult nights had been spent swimming in that very lake.

Alice and Margaret, obviously over-excited and not shy at all, stripped down to their shifts and jumped into the cool water, squealing and giggling and splashing each other.

Elizabeth winked at George as she followed their example, stumbling out of her gown and diving in with supreme grace. George hastily followed her, in only his breeches and shirt.

They spent a happy few hours in the water, having swimming competitions and seeing who could stay underwater for the longest. Alice won, much to George's disappointment.

Afterwards they lay down on the grass waiting for their clothes to dry, sharing the food given to them by the cook in the springtime sunlight.

* * *

"Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, And who but my lady Greensleeves. Alas, my love, that you should own, A heart of wanton vanity, So must I meditate alone; Upon your insincerity" George sang, watching his daughters struggle against the tiredness that had consumed them at his lullaby.

Elizabeth was listening to him as attentively as the girls, her head tilted to one side as she took in the meaning of the words. She remembered the day that Henry had sung the song to Anne, and they had been so happy and deep in love. Well, deep in ambition, in Anne's case. But she had grown to love Henry, Elizabeth was sure of it.

Though now it was all falling apart. They could all see it.

"Do you have to go?" asked Alice, almost pathetically, gazing at her parents with teary black eyes.

"I am sorry" Elizabeth said regretfully, "But we must leave. Your Aunt Anne the Queen needs us at court"

"Is Aunt Anne well?" Margaret asked anxiously. She and Alice had always adored and idolised Anne, their favourite Aunt.

George and Elizabeth exchanged a glance before Elizabeth replied with "Very well"

Alice and Margaret smiled, relieved, and snuggled down in their bed.

"Goodnight, my darlings" Elizabeth said gently, kissing their foreheads, "We will come and see you very soon, and we wills send you lots of letters and presents in the meantime"

"We love you very, very much" said George, surprising Elizabeth with the firmness in his voice, "Very much. You must promise to be good girls"

They both nodded sleepily and George leaned down to kiss them both. The couple hovered in the doorway for a few moments too long, and watched their daughters sleep.

As they tiptoed away for their supper, George shed a single silent tear for his girls.

* * *

"George!" Elizabeth squealed as George scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs, "Put me down!"

George just grinned, refusing to answer her. He slammed their chamber door behind them and threw Elizabeth down on the bed. She giggled, far too loudly.

"Let us just not sleep tonight" George suggested, smirking. Elizabeth grinned, flinging her clothes on the floor until she wore only her pale pink chemise.

"But we have to leave at dawn and travel all day to get back to court, and retire late in the night" she pointed out, trying and failing to be sensible.

"We may not be here again for some time, we should make it memorable" as soon as the words left his mouth George regretted them. Elizabeth propped herself up on her elbows, a vulnerable frown creasing her brow.

"Why ever not?" she asked, eyes wide, "We will be here in the summer, we always come during the summer progress. What is happening that means we cannot come this summer?"

George looked at her fearful face and could not bring himself to tell her about the foreboding that he had been feeling of late.

"I just meant that Anne will probably need us around. Things are strained between her and Henry – who knows how the situation will be by summertime?" he improvised, though his words were almos true.

"Oh, of course" Elizabeth's face cleared at once, "I understand"

George grinned at her again, crawling across the bed towards her, leaning over her. She giggled. Her chemise had slipped down past her shoulders, and he leaned down to trail his lips over her collarbone and neck. She sighed with content.

"You're beautiful" he told her, knowing that if his feelings were correct, he should say it every day while he had the chance.

She beamed at him, "Why, thank you. Now, kiss me"

George laughed and did as she asked, pulling her chemise down a little further to reveal her breasts. She smiled knowingly at him and he pulled away for a moment.

"You know I love you, don't you?" he said suddenly, "I love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone on this Earth"

Elizabeth, in her own haze of love and lust, did not detect the urgency in his voice.

"I love you too" she responded breathlessly, though she did mean it, tearing off his clothes, "But now you need to come here and keep me awake until dawn"

George smiled fondly at her, knowing that he had said all he could for now, "I think I can do that"

**A/N: Sorry that this is a bit bitty, I just really wanted to write about their last day at Hever. Please read and review!****  
**


	39. Don't Wanna Miss a Thing

**A/N: I absolutely love this song, and it's another one that reminds me of Elizabeth and George's relationship. It's quite sad that nowadays, every time I listen to a song, I sit there and think 'hmm, would it work?' That really is sad. Anyway, please read and review, I really hope you like it! ELIZABETH'S POV.**

_I could stay awake just to hear you breathing  
Watch you smile while you are sleeping  
Far away and dreaming  
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender  
I could stay lost in this moment forever  
Well, every moment spent with you  
Is a moment I treasure_

I never dreamed that I would ever fall in love with someone who loves me so deeply in return. When I was four years of age I fell in love with George, and I thought that he would always think of me as a child, his little sister, almost, for our whole lives. Even when I decided that I would make him love me, I never thought that it would work. And now here we are.

He sleeps beside me, a smile on his lips, his arm around me. I wonder if it is me that he thinks of, day in, day out, every day, like I do with him. I wonder if it is my face that haunts his dream, my laugh that rings in his ears. I love him, I could never have it any other way.

_I don't wanna close my eyes  
I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you  
The sweetest dream will never do  
I'd still miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing_

I look at him, reach out to brush my fingers lightly through his dark curly hair, stroke my fingertips over his smiling lips, his strong jaw, his firm brow, his palely bruised eyelids. I remember everything that has passed between us, how we have spent evenings dancing together, how we do everything that a man and wife do and more. Even when I close my eyes I see his laughing face imprinted on the inside of my eyelids.

_Lying close to you  
Feeling your heart beating  
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming  
Wondering if it's me you're seeing  
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together  
And I just wanna stay with you  
In this moment forever, forever and ever_

I twist my fingers gently through the dark, sparse curls on his muscular chest, feel the throbbing of his heart under my palm. I kiss him, very gently, my lips catching a little on his before I pull away. He stirs and moves closer to me before falling back to sleep. I could never, never leave him. 

I don't wanna close my eyes  
I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you  
The sweetest dream will never do  
I'd still miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing

But now I do not know how long we have left. It is the most terrible thing I have ever had to contemplate, but one day maybe I will only see George in my dreams, maybe our love will be confined to a world of make-believe and memories in my head. I cannot miss one moment with him, not now that things are so uncertain, when he could be exiled and separated from me while I am trapped here by my husband, unable to join him. When worse things could happen to him.

I don't wanna miss one smile  
I don't wanna miss one kiss  
Well, I just wanna be with you  
Right here with you, just like this  
I just wanna hold you close  
Feel your heart so close to mine  
And stay here in this moment  
For all the rest of time

I think about his smile – his teeth, shiny and white and just that tiny bit crooked. He has different smiles – he has his polite court smile and he has his smile reserved only for me. He smiles when he writes poetry for me, and when he sees me walk into a room. He smiles when he is giving me gifts, and when I say something to make him laugh. He smiles when we dance together, and he smiles especially when he can see that I am dancing for him and only for him. I think about his kisses, too, and how sometimes he will kiss me with love and compassion and other times with such a fierce and burning passion. I think about how I rarely am able to sleep unless I am wrapped in his arms, with the feel of his warm body pressed against me and his strong arms draped over my shoulders or around my waist. I think about other things, too, other times, other memories that sometimes make me blush with embarrassment at some of the things I am prepared to do for him. 

Don't wanna close my eyes  
Don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you  
The sweetest dream will never do  
'Cause I'd still miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing

I will not lose him , I will not lose what we have. We have built a life for ourselves that should be impossible in this day and age, a small haven of true love and family in a world where those things are often dictated by others. If we can manage that , then we can manage to stay together.

I don't wanna close my eyes  
I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you  
The sweetest dream will never do  
I'd still miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing

George stirs, opens one eye lazily.

"You still awake?" he asks, sleepily disbelieving, reaching out to stroke my hair and pull it gently through his fingers. I nod, suddenly sleepy myself.

"Get some sleep" he suggest gently, smiling dopily at me. I laugh, and it turns into a yawn. He closes his eyes once more.

Don't wanna close my eyes  
Don't wanna fall asleep, yeah  
I don't wanna miss a thing

Even as I fight to keep my eyes open, not wanting to lose this, they start to slowly close, until I too am asleep, and our hearts beat to the same slow, gentle rhythm, and I smile and dream of him.


	40. Feel My Love

A/N: Sorry it's been so long! And I have BAD NEWS...this will probably be the last update I get to make to any of my stories until AT LEAST the Christmas holidays, it may even be after Christmas! I'm sorry, but I have a ton of mock exams coming up and a massive pile of coursework and presents to wrap and cards to buy! So if I don't get to say it, thanks so much to everyone who has read or reviewed a story of mine this year, hope you all have a very Merry Christmas!

Set when Elizabeth and George are flirting, Elizabeth's POV.

_The storms are raging on the rolling sea  
And on the highway of regret.  
Though winds of change are throwing wild and free,  
You ain't seen nothing like me yet.  
I could make you happy, make your dreams come true.  
Nothing that I wouldn't do.  
Go to the ends of the Earth for you,  
To make you feel my love_ - Make you feel my Love, Adele. 

I wonder when he'll start to notice me. I mean, he has noticed me of course, how could he not, as I am so often with him, but I mean _really _notice me. I honestly don't think that he has ever really seen me yet, and it has been nearly two weeks now.

Sometimes when he looks at me I can see in his eyes that he still thinks of me as a little child. He sees only a sweet, shy little girl with the most innocent big blue eyes and chubby cheeks and wild loose hair. He does not see me as I am now, and it frustrates me.

But I am sure that tonight will be the night that I will catch his eye. He may not fall in love with me yet, but he will at least see me.

We have gathered in Anne's chamber for a small party. She has invited a few people that she has made friends with to welcome Aurora and I properly to court.

Henry Percy is there, and Anne seems rather attentive towards him, and Francis Weston, George's friend, Thomas Wyatt, the poet, Mary, George, Anne Stanhope, Elizabeth Darrell, Aurora, and myself. There are a few ragged musicians there, playing music. Thomas Wyatt is showing them a piece of music that the young Thomas Tallis has composed to go with his latest poem.

I head straight towards George, spotting Aurora's poorly hidden giggle as I do so. We embrace – at least we are that intimate, I suppose. I just curtsey to other people, but not George.

We talk for a while, and play cards, while a lot of wine is consumed. Anne is as talkative and bright as I have ever seen her, with two high spots of red on her cheeks.

"Let us dance, ladies!" she suggests eagerly. We all laugh and agree, stumbling from her seats. Although many of the women are very merry, Anne and Liz Darrell included, I have kept quite a clear head.

The musicians begin a fun, wild piece of music, and we grab hands and link arms with whichever lady in closest to us, struggling up and down the room in a cheery jig, laughing loudly, while the men watch and clap in time to the music. At a signal from someone, I am not sure who, the music becomes slower, more sensual.

It is as if it is the most perfectly and painstakingly choreographed routine – we fall into a line, us six women, and begin to dance. Although I cannot tell exactly whom it is for each woman, I am almost certain that each of us is dancing in such a way for our own man, our own reasons.

My eyes are fixed on George as I sway, no longer innocent and fearful, but knowing and inviting. His own eyes are wide, and he is blinking rather rapidly. I grin to myself, my hips swivelling , twirling prettily.

The men leap up all of a sudden to join us; it is all most improper, but none of us are complaining. I smile wider to see George coming towards me.

"I had no idea you could dance like this" he admits, eyes fixed on the curve of my breasts at the top of my pink gown.

"Come closer" I suggest, very quietely, so he can pretend that he has not heard me.

He does not pretend to have not heard me, moving close enough that our lips could touch, if we wanted them too, and God knows I certainly do. We could blame it on the wine, but I know he will not think like that.

His hands rest very gently on either side of my waist as my hips move, and I move closer so that they are swaying against him. He moves sharply away.

"I will have to leave now" he says, "I am sorry, I feel unwell all of a sudden"

As he sweeps hastily away, I find myself alone and giggling.

I definitely think he noticed me!


	41. The Rose

**A/N: YAY – today is a Snow Day, so I get to update! I am very happy! This chapter is for Lady Eleanor Boleyn, who is kind and lovely and reviews all of my chapter, for which I am very grateful. She requested this song or another one, but I thought I might save the other one for a bit longer as a Christmas present for her! Any requests, not just for songs but for plotlines too, are welcome! Please review!**

_Some say love, it is a river_  
_That drowns the tender reed_  
_Some say love, it is a razor_  
_That leaves your soul to bleed_  
_Some say love, it is a hunger_  
_An endless, aching need_  
_I say love, it is a flower_  
_And you it's only seed_

"Happy Christmas, Elizabeth"

Elizabeth whirled around from her desk and rushed towards her lover, beaming, She flung her arms around his neck and held him tightly, while he laughed aloud.

"Anyone would think that you had not seen me for a year" George joked, amused. Elizabeth scowled childishly up at him.

"Never a year. Three days is long enough, thank you!"

"Your lips are the colour of roses , today" he observed, gently running the tips of his fingers over her soft, plump, red lips.

"Flatterer" Elizabeth laughed scornfully, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She looked away from him - she had always found it difficult to accept compliments from him.

"I'm not flattering you!" George protested, "I was being quite serious"

She looked up at him from under her fair eyelashes, her blue eyes both pleased and slightly embarrassed.

"Really?" she smiled slowly, teeth dragging lightly over her lips, giving them more colour.

"My rose" George murmured, stroking her smooth cheek lightly with his palm.

_It's the heart afraid of breaking_  
_That never learns to dance_  
_Its the dream afraid of waking_  
_That never takes the chance_  
_It's the one who won't be taken,_  
_Who cannot seem to give_  
_And the soul afraid of dying_  
_That never learns to live_

Elizabeth looked coyly at George, and he drank in her beauty. He, too, had missed her unbearably during his three days in Grymston.

She really was like a rose, he mused, smiling. She was so beautiful, heavenly, like an angel, a gift sent from Heaven only for him. She was strong and determined and sweet, all at the same time. But she had her thorns too, of course. Her jealous nature had led to several arguments between them and her temper was truly terrifying. She had physical thorns too – he had dozens of scratches over his back and chest from her long, sharp nails. Then again, it was worth the scratches for what he got in return.

Despite her obvious faults, she had never ceased to be perfect for him.

_And the night has been too lonely_  
_And the road has been too long_  
_And you think that love is only_  
_For the lucky and the strong_

"I wish I had been able to get back sooner" George said eventually, "But the snow has caused such havoc. The roads are icy and the wind cold"

"And your bed was no warmer, I hope?" Elizabeth felt she had to ask, but her eyes were sparkling because she already knew that he would never be deliberately unfaithful to her.

"My bed was as cold as yours would have been" George retorted, smiling exactly the same smile as hers. They both grinned.

"I was lonely without my rose" George whispered softly against her lips.

"And I was lonely without you" Elizabeth whispered in return against his lips. They kissed, momentarily, the barest brush of their lips.

_Just remember in the winter_  
_Far beneath the bitter snow_  
_Lies the seed that with the sun's love,_  
_In the spring, becomes a rose._

"I will have to leave again in the Spring" George cautioned Elizabeth. She shook her head, her long hair swishing against his chest as she pulled off his doublet and undershirt.

"That seems forever away. Let us not talk about it now" she smiled slightly, "And anyway, in the Spring I do not get quite so upset. The Spring is so much brighter than the Winter"

"And anyway" George continued, smiling himself as he unlaced her bodice, "Roses bloom in the Spring"

**A/N: Thank you, Lady Eleanor Boleyn, for introducing me to this amazing and very George and Elizabeth song! I really hope you liked it, and everyone else too. I do not own the song or lyrics. **


	42. In Mourning Wise Since Daily I Increase

**A/N: This is one of my favourite poems of all time, I find it truly heartbreaking. I thought this would be something quite sweet to add in. This is set after George's death, which will become kind of obvious when you start reading. Elizabeth's POV. This chapter is going to end up being half mine and half Thomas Wyatt's!**

I am broken.

It may not look it to the outside world, but I am broken inside and can never be fixed. It has been...I don't even know how long it has been since my George was taken from me. It could be five days, it could be ten. And then to have Anne taken away too, so soon after him.

There have been some days when I have not left my bed. I trust Aurora, as the stronger cousin, to care for my children while I grieve. She brings me food, and tries to talk to me, and tries to get me to talk to her about the baby I am carrying. Sometimes Alice or Margaret or both of them will come trotting in and hug me for a little while before leaving. They seem broken too, with red eyes and blotchy faces. I want to worry about them, but I cannot. It is as though the grief is a wall, barring me from thinking of anything but him. Some days I have gone for a walk around the house and picked up Thomas' dagger to end my life, but I cannot do it. Some days I pray that there will be poison in my meals, that I will die peacefully in my sleep. It has not happened yet.

"Mama! Mama!"

Margaret comes scurrying into the room, her little face bright for the first time.

"You have a letter, Mama" she tells me importantly.

"Thank you, darling" I say distantly. I do not care. The letter will not be from him, so I do not want to read it.

Just two minutes later I am cracking the seal in two, curiousity getting the better of me.

_Dear Mistress Elizabeth,_

_I hope that you are well as can be and coping with the tragedy that has befallen us. I am glad that you are away from court; here it is as though nothing has happened, and we are expected to be cheerful all the time and pay homage to the new Queen Jane. I stay in my room often - I cannot bear to see this new Queen, I would wish for another in her place, surrounded by her admirers._

_The men who were murdered were all great friends of mine and I miss them sorely. I was a particularly close companion of George, your lover, and I knew of your affair. I know also that he loved you so. _

_I have enclosed a copy of a poem I wrote the day that he and the others were executed, thinking that you might like to read it. I pray for your happiness and health._

_In Mourning wise since daily I increase,  
Thus should I cloak the cause of all my grief;  
So pensive mind with tongue to hold his peace'  
My reason sayeth there can be no relief:  
Wherefore give ear, I humbly you require,  
The affect to know that thus doth make me moan._

_The cause is great of all my doleful cheer  
For those that were, and now be dead and gone.  
What thought to death desert be now their call.  
As by their faults it doth appear right plain?  
Of force I must lament that such a fall should light on those so wealthily did reign,  
Though some perchance will say, of cruel heart,  
A traitor's death why should we thus bemoan?  
But I alas, set this offence apart,  
Must needs bewail the death of some be gone._

_As for them all I do not thus lament,  
But as of right my reason doth me bind;  
But as the most doth all their deaths repent,  
Even so do I by force of mourning mind.  
Some say, 'Rochford, haddest thou been not so proud,  
For thy great wit each man would thee bemoan,  
Since as it is so, many cry aloud  
It is great loss that thou art dead and gone.'_

_Ah! Norris, Norris, my tears begin to run  
To think what hap did thee so lead or guide  
Whereby thou hast both thee and thine undone  
That is bewailed in court of every side;  
In place also where thou hast never been  
Both man and child doth piteously thee moan.  
They say, 'Alas, thou art far overseen  
By thine offences to be thus deat and gone.'_

_Ah! Weston, Weston, that pleasant was and young,  
In active things who might with thee compare?  
All words accept that thou diddest speak with tongue,  
So well esteemed with each where thou diddest fare.  
And we that now in court doth lead our life  
Most part in mind doth thee lament and moan;  
But that thy faults we daily hear so rife,  
All we should weep that thou are dead and gone._

_Brereton farewell, as one that least I knew.  
Great was thy love with divers as I hear,  
But common voice doth not so sore thee rue  
As other twain that doth before appear;  
But yet no doubt but they friends thee lament  
And other hear their piteous cry and moan.  
So doth eah heart for thee likewise relent  
That thou givest cause thus to be dead and gone._

_Ah! Mark, what moan should I for thee make more,  
Since that thy death thou hast deserved best,  
Save only that mine eye is forced sore  
With piteous plaint to moan thee with the rest?  
A time thou haddest above thy poor degree,  
The fall whereof thy friends may well bemoan:  
A rotten twig upon so high a tree  
Hath slipped thy hold, and thou art dead and gone._

_And thus farewell each one in hearty wise!  
The axe is home, your heads be in the street;  
The trickling tears doth fall so from my eyes  
I scarce may write, my paper is so wet.  
But what can hope when death hath played his part,  
Though nature's course will thus lament and moan?  
Leave sobs therefore, and every Christian heart  
Pray for the souls of those be dead and gone._

_Yours if ever you should need me,_

_Thomas Wyatt_

I begin to cry, my hands shaking, my whole body trembling. This is so beautiful, the best gift I could ever be given, though I am a little offended that he calls George proud.

I drag towards me a piece of parchment and my red feather quill, a present from my lost love, and write simply two words.

_Thank you._


	43. Weakness

**A/N: A sweet little songfic about George and Elizabeth when she goes to visit Hever, aged 15. In this, George is still at Oxford and on a brief visit home. The song is 'Weakness' by The Wanted.**

_She aims a smile with the safety off_

_And she's not afraid to use it_

_She holds my gaze just long enough_

_For me to feel like I'm gonna lose it_

"George!" Elizabeth came flying towards him, her eyes sparkling, her teeth gleaming like pearls against the rose madder of her lips. George sighed contentedly as he held her. Seeing Elizabeth was his favourite part of his homecoming, though remembering his last visit made him blush. He had forgotten how much he had wanted her.

_And I know that she knows_

_That I know what she's doing to me_

_And she knows when she calls_

_I'll fall for her every time_

She was very clever – she knew exactly how to get to him.

"I missed you" she said brightly, pulling away from him. She kissed both of his cheeks, politely ignoring his soft sigh against her skin, "Come on. Aurora and I were joining Anne and Mary for a dancing lesson. You can be my partner"

_Cause I'm wrapped I'm wrapped around_

_Your perfect little finger_

_And I'm trapped inside the cell_

_Of every sound she makes_

_She is my weakness, she is my weakness_

As they entered, George ignored his sisters – he could not help it – and concentrated only on Elizabeth as she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the centre of the room. Mary, Anne and Aurora had taken hands and were dancing together, twirling and laughing.

Elizabeth pulled George closer to her, pressed her body against his. She was smiling, almost laughing. She watched him from under her eyelashes, reading his expression.

"You don't seem to need dancing lessons" he observed, slightly breathless. Elizabeth giggled.

"Thank you" she replied, softly as though she were whispering sweet nothings into his ear in bed. He swallowed loudly. She looked away, and he regretted letting his thoughts show.

_A look from her is like oxygen_

_How would I keep breathing without her_

_She breaks a whole as she looks away_

_Now my heart ain't beating without her_

The whores that he had lain with while at Oxford were nothing compared to her. They may know how to please him, but only Elizabeth truly knew how to make him love her. She linked her fingers with his, swayed her hips against his. She watched, silently surprised, as his hand involuntarily moved further up her body from her waist to her breast. A little smile curved her lips. She said nothing, just looking at him steadily.

_And I know that she knows_

_That I know what she's doing to me_

_And she knows when she goes_

_I'll come for her every time_

_Cause I'm wrapped I'm wrapped around_

_Your perfect little finger_

_And I'm trapped inside the cell_

_Of every sound she makes_

_She is my weakness, she is my weakness_

"I'm sorry" he mumbled, moving his hand back to her waist. She was still silent, though she gave him a knowing smile. She leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

"There's nothing wrong with a little flirtation between friends" she offered, still smiling.

_I know it might sound crazy_

_But I don't wanna let go_

_Now I don't mind spending every night if you don't let go_

_I know it might sound crazy_

_But I don't wanna let go_

_Now I don't mind spending every night if you don't let go_

"I wish this dance could last forever" Elizabeth admitted, so quietely that George could barely hear her.

"You could stay here tonight" he suggested suddenly, his voice also barely audible, "You don't have to go home. You could stay here, with me"

Elizabeth gasped, very prettily, very dramatically, and jerked away from him.

"George! I am a maid, you know, and intend to stay that way until my court debut"

George heaved a heavy sigh, and went back to dancing with her, "Of course. I apologise, Elizabeth"

"Never mind" Elizabeth was soon grinning again, "Maybe one day soon"

_Cause I'm wrapped I'm wrapped around_

_Your perfect little finger_

_And I'm trapped inside the cell_

_Of every sound she makes_

_She is my weakness, she is my weakness_


	44. Merry Christmas

**A/N: I hope you all had an amazing Christmas time, I certainly did! This is just a little piece of festive fluff involving George and Elizabeth! Please review!**

_I don't want a lot for Christmas  
There's just one thing I need  
I don't care about the presents  
Underneath the Christmas tree  
I don't need to hang my stocking  
There upon the fireplace  
Santa Claus won't make me happy  
With a toy on Christmas day  
I just want you for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true  
All I want for Christmas is you  
You baby – Mariah Carey, All I want for Christmas is you_

"Merry Christmas, Bess" George said, not looking up as Elizabeth entered his room. He heard her giggle – she was hiding something behind her back.

"How did you know?"she asked, surprised as a young child discovered in hide and seek.

"I know your footsteps" George turned around to face her, hiding her present on the desk behind him. For just a moment, she took his breath away. She was standing in the doorway, framed in golden candlelight, her hair shining as bright as one of the flames. She wore a wreath of holly and ivy upon her head, and a beautiful red gown embroidered with gold. She was smiling eagerly, still holding the present behind her back, so that her back was arched, pushing forward her breasts.

"You're going to like your present, I hope" Elizabeth bit her lip, as if she were terrible wary of his opinion. Yet George knew that she would have picked out the most perfect gift.

She wandered slowly towards him, still smiling, and held out the present.

"If you like it, you can have me as your second present" Elizabeth suggested, trying not to giggle at the excited expression on her lover's face.

He took the present from her, grinning. It was a new pair of leather hawking gloves, the cuffs painstakingly embroidered with his initials.

"I paid for the gloves" Elizabeth told him, "But I did the initials"

"Thank you, Elizabeth. They're beautiful" George replied gratefully, reaching out to brush a stray ringlet from her eyes and very gently kissing the corner of her mouth. Her legs began to tremble – she had almost forgotten about her own gift as she wound her arms around George's neck. He gently pushed her away.

"Do you not want your present?" he asked, half-laughing. Elizabeth gave a little laugh too.

"Oh, yes, please! I had quite forgotten!"

George produced her present, a small velvet pouch. It was weighty – Elizabeth guessed that it was a piece of jewellery. She lifted the pouch, tipping the contents into her palm. She gasped – the bracelet was gold, inlaid with rubies and emeralds, her favourite jewels. The bracelet itself was very delicate – the gemstones were what weighed it down. The bar that joined the two ends of the bracelet had an engraving on it – 'For my only love'.

Elizabeth swallowed past the lump in her throat, her eyes filling up with tears, "It's the loveliest present I have ever had, Thank you so much"

They watched one another for a minute or two. Elizabeth slipped the bracelet on her wrist with a clinking sound; George laid the gloves on the buffer nearby his bed.

Elizabeth removed the holly headdress that she wore, taking a step closer to George. Looking him right in the eyes, she undid the golden ribbon that fastened her bodice at the front, slipped out of the full red skirt. She giggled aloud at George's expression, biting her lip, looking up at him.

"Well?" she prompted, "Are you not going to unwrap me?"

George leapt towards her, pushing her down on the bed. They both burst out laughing, breathlessly.

Elizabeth reached out, craning upwards to kiss George's neck, his jaw, "Merry Christmas" she whispered.


	45. Envy

**A/N: As it's New Year's Eve, and I want to thank you for the reads and reviews on all of my stories, I decided I'd do seven little chapters based on the seven deadly sins and Elizabeth and George's relationship, because they all fit in somewhere along the line. Thanks for all your support this year, Happy new year to all of you! Please review these! **

"That girl is looking at you" Elizabeth murmured, turning with George in the dance, their palms pressed together, other arm raised high above their heads.

"What girl?" George frowned, looking around the Hampton Court great hall, "I think you are imagining things, Elizabeth"

"I am not" Elizabeth was scowling by that point, "She's giving you sickly little smiles like Jane Seymour gives Henry. If she carries on I shall go over there"

George couldn't help laughing at that, "And do what, exactly?" he inquired.

"I haven't decided yet" Elizabeth replied mutinously, "Look, she has moved closer. The blonde"

George swept Elizabeth up off of the floor and spun her around in the dance. As he set her back down on her feet, he spotted the girl that she was talking about. She was only young, a child really, and obviously new to court. She had wide brown eyes and blonde ringlets and a very lovely brown silken gown. Yet she held no attraction for George – she was completely opposite in looks to Elizabeth.

"I see her now" George made the mistake of saying to Elizabeth. She glared at him.

"So you have been looking for her, then?" she snapped, "I suppose you thought you might find yourself a new whore"

"What is this?" George was frowning once again, "I would never choose anyone but you, even if I were to have the choice a thousand times"

The music ended; the fiddlers put down their bows to bow down to the applause. Elizabeth flung another poisonous glance at George, at the girl, and stormed away from the crowd of dancers. No-one noticed her sudden departure – it even took George a few moments before he began to follow her.

She was waiting for him outside his chamber, arms folded. She looked like she was laughing all of a sudden.

"Dear God, Bess, have you gone quite mad?" George asked, "You worried me"

"I am sorry" Elizabeth apologised, "But I get terrible jealous. You have no idea how many women look at you like that. It gets to me sometimes. I'm not as young as I was, and I've put on a little weight since the girls – "

"Oh, what nonsense!" George laughed, "You're perfect, and as beautiful as you were upon the day you arrived at court"

Elizabeth looked up at him, "You're mine" she told him fiercely – her nails dug into his chest, "Mine, and that's that. I shan't share you with anyone, I tell you that now"

George grinned, "Well you're mine, and I'm not planning on sharing you, either"


	46. Greed

**A/N: Please review!**

"We shall have everything" Anne leaned towards her circle of friends. She, George, Mary, Aurora and Elizabeth had gathered in her chamber to discuss her latest achievement, and to admire her latest gift from the King – a beautiful black ruffled robe.

"It looks much better on me, Anne" Elizabeth taunted, twirling round, the taffeta swinging around her slender body. George nodded with approval.

"It does, Anne" he agreed. Anne scowled at him; Elizabeth tutted at his audacity and gave the robe back.

"Don't listen to him, Anne. He's just a bit greedy today. Carry on"

"As I was saying" Anne glared at her brother, "And anyway, we could have it all. We could have land in every county. A house in every town. You could be great, George , Mary, all of you – when I'm Queen, of course"

"This is greed, this is" Mary said sternly, "You can't be Queen. It's impossible. Henry has his Queen, and she's a good one at that"

"Is she, Mary? Is she really?" Anne leaned closer to them, "I want more than Catherine. I want reform, new schools, money for the poor. I want life to be just that little bit easier than it is now"

"And even if you have to break Catherine's heart, you'll get it?" Aurora inquired dubiously.

"Exactly!" Anne agreed brightly, "I do like to have a plan"


	47. Gluttony

**A/N: Please review!**

"I feel sick" Elizabeth groaned, pushing away the platter of sweetmeats that she had been eating. Aurora snorted with laughter.

"I'm not surprised. I've never seen anyone eat so much!" she taunted, though she meant it. Elizabeth sighed heavily, burying her head in her hands.

"Since I lost my child I have not been able to stop!" she complained, "It is a comfort to me. But I must stop"

"Yes" Aurora agreed, not meaning to be rude, "Else you shall run to fat"

Elizabeth fixed wide, fearful eyes on Aurora. There was a knock on the door.

George entered the room, and Aurora left, pausing only to place a light kiss on George's cheek.

"Are you alright today, my love?" George sat beside Elizabeth, dropping a kiss upon her hair as he did so.

"No" said Elizabeth, and quite promptly burst into tears. George pulled her to him at once.

"What is all this?" he asked anxiously, "Are you still upset about the baby?"

"That's not it" Elizabeth snivelled, "I need to ask you something"

"Anything, darling" George agreed at once. Elizabeth looked up at him with watering blue eyes.

"Am I fat?"

George stared at her, "Are you...what?"

"Am I fat?" she repeated, pouting. George started to laugh.

"Of course not, you stupid woman!" he protested, "My God, where on earth did you get that from?"

"Aurora said it" Elizabeth mumbled, "Well, she said I'd get fat. I am, aren't I? I'm horrible and fat and unattractive"

George laughed louder, "Come here, you dopey girl. Let me show you how attractive you really are"


	48. Lust

**A/N: Please review, might end up as an M-rated chapter, I'm not sure yet!**

"George!" Elizabeth's giggle reached Francis's ears from the other end of the corridor. He slipped out of the crowded hall, followed the sound.

Elizabeth and George were hiding in a narrow, empty corridor in a rather obscure place. Francis halted by the corner before them, knowing that he should leave. He could not bring himself to.

He heard Elizabeth's soft sigh; a rustle of fabric. George groaned, loudly. Francis stepped back slightly – in the instant that he managed to peep around the corner, he saw a flash of red as Elizabeth's skirt was pulled up to her waist, a glimpse of her pale thigh. She giggled again, a little louder.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else" Elizabeth whispered, "I feel like someone is watching us"

"Don't be silly" George murmured; there was a sound of his lips against Elizabeth's neck, "No-one ever comes around here"

"Well, if you're sure.." Elizabeth agreed, her voice trailing off into a low moan of desire.

Francis once again made to leave, but Elizabeth stopped him once again.

"Oh" she whispered softly, "Oh George"

Francis hovered, his heart pounding – and that wasn't the only thing, either.

George groaned, as did Elizabeth. There was a loud, ecstatic shriek from Elizabeth, a bellow from George. Francis was trembling with desire – desire and lust.

He could hear both of them, breathing heavily, the sound of them then kissing, moving together again.

Francis started to run – he could listen no longer. But as he did, he fell, with a thud, on the floor.

"What was that?" he heard Elizabeth squeak.

"I'll have a look. Don't move" George cautioned. He peered around the corner, moved out from behind it, lacing himself up as he did so. He looked down, saw Francis lying on the floor. Fury flared in his dark eyes.

"What is it, George?" Elizabeth repeated.

"Nothing" said George, glaring at Francis, "There's nothing there"


	49. Pride

**A/N: Please review!**

George looked down from Heaven, found a smile curving his lips. His lover struck his wife, hard, across the face, and he laughed. Brave, brave Elizabeth. So beautiful, so proud. He wished he had told her how beautiful she was more often.

She looked stunning, he realised, even in the midst of grief. Her black dress of mourning set off the paleness of her skin, making it almost luminous, and her red hair was burning bright as a flame. Her blue eyes were like the ocean, sapphire and filled with tears. Her long fingered hands grasped the shining beads of her rosary, and she held her head high as if she had nothing to be ashamed of. She didn't, in his eyes, but the rest of the court would not see it that way.

She had been a friend to the Boleyns: The confidante of Mary, the favourite maid of Anne, the lover of George. The King and Jane, George had seen, saw her as a possible threat – Cromwell was keeping a close eye on her. But she was a threat to nobody – she was just a woman, and a scared, bereaved one at that.

He was so proud of her. Soon she would leave her husband, he knew that, start a new life, give birth to his child, and she would not complain. She would bear it with a quiet, broken dignity. She would be proud of him, proud of her children, proud of her new life.


	50. Sloth

A/N: Please review!

George grinned to himself, stretched out in his bed at Hever. Elizabeth had dashed off to fetch him some water and a pail after he said that he felt unwell.

He didn't often pretend illness, but that day he had felt as though he needed a day in bed, a day of Elizabeth rushing around for him, giving her gentle ministrations, reading to him, singing to him, and, most importantly of all, fussing over him. They were the perks of being ill when one had a lover like Elizabeth.

"Here, George, have some water. It should be alright, I got Alice to collect it from the stream" Elizabeth came bustling back into the room, handing him the goblet of water and dropping the pail to the floor with a clang.

"Thanks, Bess" George gulped down the water hurriedly. When he put the goblet down, Elizabeth was frowning at him.

"Your voice sounds much better than it did a little while ago" she pointed out slowly. George tried not to let the annoyance he felt about making such a stupid mistake show. He could have let down the whole charade!

"It comes and goes – see" he croaked in reply. Elizabeth eyes narrowed as she placed a cool hand over his forehead.

"You're not feverish anymore, either" she mused, "You look better too. You're faking it, aren't you? I don't know how you did it, but this morning you made yourself seem terribly ill, and you worried me so"

"I am ill!" George protested with just a little too much gusto, "I don't know how you could ever think that I would lie to you"

She took a step closer to him, eyeing him suspiciously. Finally, she smiled.

"Very well, my love. Then I shall leave you in peace – too much chatter might slow your recovery. And, of course, I shall not lay with you until you are entirely better. I shall sleep in Alice's room until you are well again"

George sat up at once, "What?"

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh, "If you want to be ill, and lie like a sloth in your bed, you shall do it quite alone"

"But-"

"Hush now, sweetheart. Silence shall help you, I am sure of it" she made to leave the room, her hand on the doorknob. George flung back the covers and went to rise from the bed.

"Bess, wait!" he cried. Elizabeth smiled, but did not turn. She kept her hand on the doorknob.

"Yes?"

"You were right. I am not unwell at all, infact I am perfectly fine. I sought to have you run around for me all day, as you do when I am ill, and for you to sing to me and speak with me and suchlike"

Elizabeth turned at last, half-laughing, "Then you only had to ask. I would not run hither and thither for you without reasoning, but I would certainly sing to you and I enjoy our conversations"

George heaved a deep sigh of relief, flopping back down into his bed, "Really?"

"Well, normally, yes. But not tonight. After that little charade I do not think that you deserve any form of pleasure from me. Now I must go and ask Alice if she would object to me staying with her tonight"

She swept from the room without another word, leaving George laughing ruefully behind her.


	51. Wrath

A/N: Please review!

"George! For God's sake, you cannot just go around telling anyone and everyone my business!" Elizabeth cried furiously. George sighed.

"It was only Tom Wyatt, Bess, he's been a good friend to me for years"

"That doesn't mean I want him to know all of those things about me!" Elizabeth shrieked, "It's me and you that should know those things, no-one else. It is private, George!"

"It's not private when you do it to me" George retorted, "You are very upfront about it"

"That is when we are alone!" Elizabeth began to pace, "I shan't be treated like a common whore. That's what you men do with whores, is it not? You lay with them and then you tell all your friends exactly what they did to you, and how they did it, and you tell them that they should go and fuck her too!"

"Bess!" George protested, "Stop it. It isn't like that. Tom and I are friends, he asked me about you, I gave him a little too much information"

"I do NOT want him knowing all the sordid details of our love life!" Elizabeth bellowed, "You idiot, you think I want everyone to whisper behind my back, call me a slut? You think I want them muttering about the things I do to you, sniggering whenever they see me?"

"Tom shan't tell anybody" George promised, "He is discreet, a good man"

"That doesn't make it right! You watch, soon everyone will know. How will you like it when other courtiers come up to me and try and get me to do things for them too? It'll make you jealous, I tell you that now, and it will be all your FAULT!"

"You sound like a vindictive wife!" George cried.

"And I wish to God that I were your wife, then it would not matter whom you told! But you just weren't quick enough, were you? If you had asked me sooner we could have had a secret, binding marriage like Aurora and Thomas. But you didn't, and now you're stuck with that viper of a wife and me with that disgusting old man that is my husband"

"You blame me for our not being married?" George frowned, "I tried, Bess, you know I tried"

"I cannot look at you, I am that angry!" Elizabeth yelled. She stormed towards the door.

"Maybe by the time you come to my bed tonight I might be a little calmer" she snapped, hesitating, "But I shan't promise. You'd better give me a bloody good reason to forgive you, George Boleyn, or I shall throw you to the dogs"


	52. Don't Leave Me Like This

**A/N: Another alternative Tower scene between George and Elizabeth. I do quite enjoy writing them in a twisted sort of way. Big thanks to Lady Eleanor Boleyn for the reviews she left for me the other day – and all the other reviews too, while I'm at it – please review this one, everyone! Thank you!**

_Come on, come on  
Don't leave me like this  
I thought I had you figured out  
Can't breathe whenever you're gone  
Can't turn back now  
I'm haunted – Haunted, Taylor Swift_

Elizabeth walked the tiny prison in thoughtful silence. The only sounds were the light tapping of her shoes on the stone floor and the scuffling of the rats in the walls. George sat on his bed, watching her. He had missed her so much, and would soon never see her again, that it was even pleasing him to see her in one of her determined, angry moods.

"Elizabeth?" he pressed eventually. She knelt in front of him, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. Fire burned in her eyes, the fire of a passion that would soon be taken away from her.

"Who says that we cannot fight this?" she hissed, eyes flashing, gleaming, "I could appeal to the King, tell him that I am carrying your child"

"I think that revealing your adultery to the King could be the worst idea ever at this moment. He's wounded already because Cromwell has somehow convinced him that Anne's an adulterer, and he'll insist that you encouraged her, and where would that leave us? He'd chop off your lovely head too, and then what would happen to our girls and the baby?" George pointed out reasonably. Elizabeth mused again, for another moment, still holding his handsome face between her palms.

"Hm. I have already appealed to Cromwell, but maybe I could bribe him somehow? I have the money that Father set aside for my dowry - apparently Phillip adored me so much that he insisted he did not want it. Ironic, really" she paused for a moment, with a frown of disgust, "I suppose I could lie with him. If it kept you safe, I'd do it"

"Elizabeth!" George protested, "I am honoured that you would do that for me, but I would rather die than have the thought of you sleeping with any man, letting alone vile Cromwell, branded into my mind"

Elizabeth moved her hands away from him, rocking back on her heels to sit reluctantly on the floor. She was scowling.

"Do you not want to fight this?" she snapped, "Do you want to die? George, you can't leave me like this. Don't leave me like this"

Her voice cracked suddenly and Elizabeth began to cry. George pulled her up from the ground and onto his lap, as if she were a child. She laid her head on his shoulder and sobbed. He held her tightly, cried his own secret, silent tears into her hair.

When they moved away from each other, when their weeping was over, they stared at each other for a few moments.

"I still want to stop this" Elizabeth murmured, but the fight had fallen away from her voice. George ran his fingertips over her plump lips.

"And you think I don't?" he retorted, and his voice was filled with a deep, almost unbelievable pain.

"Look after the girls" he added, "They mustn't forget"

"They never would" Elizabeth responded firmly, "And neither will our son"

She placed George's hand over her still-flat belly. He kissed it, very gently. He moved his lips up to Elizabeth's lips, to her neck, her collarbone, the round tops of her breasts pressed to the top of her gown. When he finally moved to her mouth again the kiss was bittersweet, full of everything that they could not say.

"I love you more than anything" he whispered against her lips.

"I love you more than life itself, and if I did not have the girls I would join you tomorrow in your grave" Elizabeth murmured in return. As she stood to leave, she brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek, his dark curly hair.

"Have fun in Heaven" she joked feebly, her voice weak, "No pretty angels are allowed. You have to wait for me"

"Always" George said, so softly that she could barely hear him as he watched her leave, "I've always waited for you"


	53. Charity

A/N: As I did the seven deadly sins, I decided to now do the seven virtues. These might take me a bit longer than the sins did, as I haven't got a free day to sit and write all of them now – stupid school. Please review!

Elizabeth leaned back against George as his horse bounced and clattered down the rough path on the way to Hever. Her sweet little palfrey had gone lame, so George had bought a new pillion saddle to allow her ride in front of him or behind him as she pleased.

They turned down a smoother pathway through the forest and slowed into a neat trot. The sunlight floating through changed everything pale green and magical, including Elizabeth's pale, freckled face.

There was a rustling from the bushes; once, twice. A cracking twig. Elizabeth reached to the reins that George was holding and tugged them gently, pulling the horse to a slow halt. George frowned at her.

"Bess, what are you doing?" he asked, confused, "We're nearly there"

"Can you hear the movement in the bushes there? I thought that it might be a badger or a fox or something"

"Oh, for dinner?" George agreed, nodding, "Yes, what a good idea"

"No, not for dinner!" Elizabeth returned crossly, "To look at!"

George gave her a quizzical look – he did not understand this newfound sentiment. She did not see him – she was squinting into the bushes.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. A small figure emerged – a girl, only about four or maybe six at the most. Her hair had obviously been chopped roughly by someone or another – it was short and straw-coloured, sticking out in all directions, covered with a small, dirty fabric cap. Her gown was filthy and torn, the hems black with dirt, the white apron worn over it covered in tiny moth holes. She looked up at the two lovers with wide amber eyes flecked with green.

Something drew Elizabeth to the poor, unfortunate child. She removed George's arms from around her waist and slipped down from the horse. She held her pink gown above her ankles to stop it dragging in the mud.

"Bess" George cautioned, "Get back up here, Bess. She'll only steal your money"

"No she won't" said Elizabeth in her sing-song voice, crouching to the height of the child, smiling warmly, "You won't do that, will you, dear?"

The vagabond girl shook her messy head.

"See?" Elizabeth said, turning to George, "She's a good girl"

"I ain't ever seen a fine lady and mister like you before" the little girl spoke at last, her face full of wonder, "Are you at court? D'you knows the King?"

Elizabeth laughed like the chirrup of a bird, "We are at court, yes, and we do know the King" she paused, "What's your name, sweeting?"

"Cat" the girl replied. She was silent again.

"Are you alone, Cat?" Elizabeth inquired gently. The girl nodded.

"You have no home to go to?" Elizabeth was filled with compassion for the poor thing, so young. George was still eyeing the child sceptically. Cat shook her head.

"No money? Food? Clothes?"

Cat shook her head once, twice, three times. Elizabeth gasped.

"Oh, you poor dear thing! Do we have any food, George?"

Even George was touched by the girls penniless existence. He produced some bread from his pouch, left over from their meal at the inn the previous night. Cat took it and tore off great chunks of it, forcing it to fit in her small mouth, barely even chewing it before swallowing.

Elizabeth turned away from the child – she could not bear to watch. She felt inside her own pouch, still attached to the horse, and found some coins. She handed the coins to Cat. Cat's eyes widened and shone – she had obviously never seen so much money before.

"Look after yourself" said Elizabeth gently, "I wish I could do more"

As they galloped away on the horse, Elizabeth allowing a tear to fall silently over her cheek, Cat waved goodbye to them, her belly full and her hands full of money for the first time in her life.


	54. Faith

A/N: Thank you for the reviews - Lady Eleanor Boleyn, I will write your request as soon as I have finished the Virtues, I promise. Please read and review! Xx The plotline is an alternative for Margaret's birth.

George paced the antechamber of the room where Elizabeth was at that very moment in labour with their second child, his fists clenched, trying to block out her shrieks and screams. Her husband, Phillip, sat on a stool, looking thoroughly bored, while Anne watched her brother with wary eyes.

Mary slipped out of the room, her face chalk white, "It is not going well" she whispered, shutting the door softly behind her, "The midwife says the birth could last hours yet, days even. Elizabeth is in a lot of pain" Mary was looking at Phillip, but George knew that the words were directed at him.

He swallowed, loudly. Mary's eyes flashed to his, sympathetic, before looking back to Phillip.

"The midwife says that we should prepare ourselves for bad news"

Silence pressed down on them all; George felt as though he were being suffocated. He knew that if it came to it, Elizabeth's husband would choose to save the child. And although he did want their baby, desperately, he wanted Elizabeth more. He could live without the child that he would never have met, but he could not live without Elizabeth.

"Excuse me" George mumbled, "I must take a few minutes"

He left the room before anyone could stop him, almost racing out of there. Tears burned in his eyes; he would not cry, not yet.

He burst, somewhat thoughtlessly, into the chapel. A dark, noble figure rose from her knees in front of the altar. Queen Catherine looked at him for a few moments, her eyes icy. Once, she might have greeted him, asked him what was the matter, what she could do to help.

But she did not trust the Boleyns anymore, and for the first time, George was sorry for it.

She swept out, still hovering silently in the doorway when George fell to his knees at the altar. She wanted to help when she saw his shoulders shake with sobs, but she did not.

"Oh, Lord, help me" George pleaded, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles were white, "Please spare her, Lord, spare my Elizabeth. She has done nothing to deserve death, nothing. Please. She is a good Christian woman, I swear to you, and any sins that you feel she may have committed, are, I am sure, all my own fault. Do not let her die, Lord, I beg of you"

For a moment, his voice was cut off by his own weeping – but he then gathered his strength to continue.

"Please, Lord, please. Save her, take away her pain, and, if you can, save our child too" George had never begged, not once in his life, but he threw himself into it with all of his might, "Please"

The chapel echoed with his sobs. There was a warm hand placed on his shoulder, soothing his trembling body.

"Master Boleyn"

George scrambled to his feet, wiped his eyes, bowed, "Your Majesty" he whispered.

Catherine looked at him, "Do not let me interrupt your prayer"

George could not stop his tears, not even in the presence of a Queen.

"The woman I love may be dying, your Majesty" he explained feebly.

"So I gathered" Catherine replied wryly, "Master Boleyn, God will do what is right. If it is her time to go then God will take her, and if He feels mercy for you and her both, he will keep her safe. God does not work against us"

George swallowed, nodded, "Yes, your Majesty"

Catherine moved away from him. She paused by the door.

"George?"

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"Go to this woman at once. And maybe you could call off your sister, while you are at it"

George smiled feebly at that, "Believe me, your Majesty, no-one can call off my sister"

Catherine sighed, "I will pray for you and your...lover"

"Thank you"

There was the sound of running footsteps. Mary appeared, curtsied to the Queen, then rushed to her brother.

"I knew that I would find you here. George, all is well! The labour has quickened and although Elizabeth is still in pain she is not in danger. The midwife has seen the head, there is not long now!"

George grinned, wiping away tears that were now of relief, looking up at the sky, then at the Queen, saying a silent thank you to both forces.

He and Mary ran towards Elizabeth's chamber, ready to see his child.


	55. Hope

A/N: A sweet little fiction about Alice after George has died and she is looking after her mother. Please review!

When I climb into my bed at night, I do not think of how things used to be when Papa was alive. I think of how they will be, when Mama is better and we have the baby. Because, as Aunt Aurora always says, we must try not to look back. We must look forward. If we look back, we will end up as broken as Mama, Meg and I, and she needs us. So we must look to the future.

I cannot get to sleep at night – Mama's sobs often keep me awake, though they do not alter Meg's sleeping patterns. Even when Mama does fall asleep she will only last an hour at the most before the nightmares come. She does not speak about them with me, she says I am too young, but she lets me hold her as if I am her Mama, and I fetch her water and sit with her until she sleeps.

Soon, Mama will be happy again. Of course, she won't sing and dance and shriek with laughter the way she used to, but she will be happy. Even if it's fake happy.

Meg will get older, and prettier – she's going to look like Mama. She'll go to the town and flirt with every man there, and keep him hanging on to her every word. She'll become the most desirable girl in all of London, and everyone will forget about her big sister. I wouldn't even mind.

The baby will be born – Mama says it is definitely a boy. So I will have a little brother, and he will be clever and handsome and funny and strong like Papa, and I will love him as much as Aunt Anne loved Papa.

One day, I will go to court. I hope that I will fall in love there, and get married, have children. I want a beautiful wedding with the King in attendance and Princesses for bridesmaids. I want two sons and two daughters that look like me and my handsome husband.

Sometimes, I doubt all of this. But then I have hope.


	56. Fortitude

A/N: SORRY! I really am! Continuing with the Virtues...please review! Set on the day between George's trial and his death.

Elizabeth entered the great hall with trepidation, trembling all over. Nearly everyone in the room fell silent and looked at her. They all knew about her outburst at the trial the day before, some of them had even been there, and they had all heard that she had been to the Tower that very afternoon. That was why she was so pale, and her eyes so red – she had been weeping for the man that she had been a whore to for...well, none of them knew how long the affair had lasted.

Elizabeth wished she had accepted Aurora's invitation to enter with her and Thomas earlier on in the evening, but she had needed some time to compose herself. Even the King was looking at her, though, thankfully, the Seymour slut was not with him – Elizabeth might have attacked the insipid blonde wallflower that had stolen her friend's throne.

Elizabeth walked further into the room. Groups parted for her, their whispers a low hum that throbbed in her head. She moved into a darkened corner, with only one candle there for light, and stood, quite alone. She did not feel brave or courageous or determined.

She had a sudden urge, the strongest she had ever had, to be _seen._ She wanted to be at the forefront of the court and see the astonishment and embarrassment of the rest of the court. She wanted to dance.

George had always told her that she displayed such fortitude, and it was only then that she realised he was right. She wanted to dance!

But who had she to dance with? All of the men that would normally have asked for her hand were locked in the Tower – George, Francis, Tom Wyatt. Her husband was not looking at her, not speaking to her, so would never ask her to dance. No-one else had ever shown any interest in her.

Then she spotted Aurora and Thomas walking towards her. Aurora pushed Thomas towards her, smiling.

"Aurora is certain that you should dance and show them what you are made of" Thomas whispered, "Do you want to dance?"

"Yes" Elizabeth grinned for the first time in a long time, "Yes, I would love to dance"

Thomas took her hand as the steady Spanish Pavane began. Elizabeth held her head up high, and smiled beautifully, and looked with fearsome eyes at the people surrounding her. They whispered, shocked by her bravery, her gaiety as she danced.

And as she leapt and twirled and spun so that her beautiful copper hair made a fluttering halo around her delicate face, she thought of how proud George would be to see her at that moment.


	57. Like a Rose on the Grave of Love

**A/N: Taking a break from the Virtues, I thought they were a really good idea at first but now I keep coming up with new things to write instead...though I will finish them eventually. This is the request chapter that Lady Eleanor Boleyn made just before Christmas. I'm sorry it's taken me so long, please do let me know what you think! Please review!**

_Come like the dusk  
Like a rose on the grave of love  
You are my lust  
Like a rose on the grave of love_

George stood in the middle of the room that contained him, the room that imprisoned him. He pushed his dark curly hair away from his face and pressed his fingers to his temples, struggling to make sense of all that was happening to him, wanting to think. But he could think of nothing but Elizabeth, Elizabeth and the years that they had shared. He pictured her, his rose. His mistress, his whore, some people said. And yes, she had been a whore. She had been his, the only one he had ever wanted, the only woman that he had ever truly lusted after. And what had he done to her, since that day that she walked up to him, stepping down from her carriage upon her arrival at court, and gave him a smile that could cause world wars? What had he done for her?

_I curse the day I first saw you  
Like a rose that is born to bloom  
Don't look at me the way you do  
Like the roses, they fear the gloom_

Dusk had made the room grey, and this only heightened George's anger and frustration. What had he done! The Tower was driving him mad, he could not concentrate on one key thought, instead dozens swirled around inside his head. Insanity was what a room like that one caused, insanity and regret. If she had not smiled at him that warm Spring day, he would have forgotten all about the little girl that he had once been friends with. If she had walked right past him and smiled at some other man she might have had a proper marriage, a loving marriage, she might not have been a whore. But when she smiled at him, a smile that sparkled like a dewdrop on a rose petal, he could not let her go.

_Your thorns, they kissed my blood_

And what would she do now, now that he was mad and close to death? Her thorns would appear, all the anger and rage and disgust at her life with him, her life as his slut, would surface, and she would spit on his grave. Or she would mourn him, equal his death with her own, spill her crimson blood over his cold dead corpse.

_Your beauty heals, your beauty kills  
And who would know better than I do?  
Pretend you love me!  
_

How could she have loved him, a man who had taken her love, who had taken her life? Yet he knew that she did. She was his rose, his beauty, his life and death. She was innocent and breathtaking and loving and bright. He knew no other like her, no other woman.

_Indeed, reality seems far  
When a rose is in love with you  
Slaves of our hearts, that's what we are  
We loved and died where roses grew_

He could not get a grip on the outside world when the world he was in seemed so insane and impossible. He thought only of her, his rose, his Elizabeth, and everything seemed clear again. Suddenly he was just a scared, frightened man, in a dark room, lonely and cold. An innocent man who had always been in love with an innocent woman. Their love could be marked not by death, but by time, by the memories that they shared, the trials that they had suffered, the beds that they had lain in.  
_  
They watched us silently_

The people that had resented them and their love, who had watched from dark corners.

_A rose is free, a rose is wild  
And who would know better than I do?  
Roses are not made for love  
_

His rose would be free, upon his death, from thirteen years of whoring. But she would not want to be free, because she was different. She was not made for love, because love would save her and break her later her. The love that had taken her life would now hand her death. Not her death, but the death of the man she loved.

And George would forever regret that he had to leave her.

But he would not regret the time that they had had. 


	58. Lent

**A/N: Still taking a break...this is a little piece that I came up with last night after doing a bit of extra research for my book. I discovered that during Lent in Tudor times, sex was generally forbidden, and I got to thinking about how irritated that would make George...hence this! Please review!**

_I'm in the bedroom  
With tissues and when  
I know you're outside banging  
Then I won't let you in  
'Cos it's a hard life  
With love in the world  
And I'm a hard girl  
Loving me's like chewing on pearls – I like it rough, Lady Gaga._

Elizabeth stood in front of the mirror, raising her long, slender arms to pin her hair, that day wildly curly, into a bun atop her head. She wore only her corset and undergarments, as selecting a gown for the evening had become a very difficult task since George had started buying for her almost one gown every week!

There came a knock at the door, and Elizabeth turned her head a little. It could only be Aurora, Anne, Mary or George.

"Come in" she called, giving up on her hair and letting the narrow metal pins clatter onto the floor. A few strands of hair still hung around her face, framing it.

George opened the door, and Elizabeth turned back to the mirror, scooping up the pins as she went. Frowning with concentration, she continued with her hair.

George stood behind her, mouth agape, his eyes roaming over her body, doubled in the mirror's reflection. Elizabeth looked at him and smiled.

"What did you want?" she asked sweetly, "You must have come here for a reason"

"I have quite forgotten" George admitted. Elizabeth laughed aloud.

"Well a lot of use that is!" she continued working on her hair, the two of them falling into a not unusual comfortable silence.

George walked softly towards her, though she gave no indication of having heard him. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her, inclining his head to press light, loving kisses on Elizabeth's neck. She froze, dropping the pins once more.

"Stop it" she ordered gently, "It's Lent, George. You've lasted this long, we have only a week left"

"What difference does one week make?" George asked softly, persuasively.

"I am not entirely sure" began Elizabeth, turning her head so that she could look at him but he could no longer kiss her, "I assume that it would be blasphemy. And we both know what a sin it is to be blasphemous"

"We are already adulterers" George pointed out, nudging her head gently with his own so that he could kiss her neck once more.

"Yes, and that is sin enough" Elizabeth scolded, "Stop it, George"

George turned around to face him, and his dark eyes were sparkling almost mischievously.

"I could always force you" he suggested with a shrug, grinning at her. She raised her eyebrows.

"There are some times when I will not be forced" she retorted.

He moved her backwards until her back was pressed against the wall. She blushed, trying to hide her smile, and he leaned in to kiss her. She turned her face away from him, and he moved once again to her slender neck.

"I could force you" he repeated in her ear, "I know how much you enjoy that"

Elizabeth pushed him, hard, and this time it was she who was grinning, "Not today. Not tomorrow. Next week you can force me as often as you like. But not yet"

George groaned, "Come on, Bess, don't do this to me"

Elizabeth was already pushing him towards the door, kicking it with her foot so that it swung open, "I shall see you later tonight when we dance. Until then, good day"

She slammed the door shut behind her and leaned against it, covering her mouth to smother her giggles.


	59. King Francois

**A/N: This is a short chapter set when Elizabeth and George go on the trip to Calais. Now, everyone who has researched the period or read about it or whatever will know that King Francois of France was VERY fond of a pretty lady. So I thought, well, Elizabeth is a very pretty lady...and I came up with this. Please review!**

_His eyes upon your face,  
His hand upon your hand,  
His lips caress your skin,  
It's more than I can stand! – El Tango De Roxanne, Moulin Rouge._

"You danced beautifully" said George appreciatively, eyeing Elizabeth skimpy outfit. She and the other dancers, including his sister, had removed their masks but had not changed their outfits and were mingling among the crowd, much to the excitement of all the men present. Anne was chattering in pretty French to none other than King Francois, who looked very solemn and was nodding thoughtfully.

"I thought you might like it" Elizabeth replied sweetly, tilting her head to one side, "And the dress doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it?"

"Certainly not" he agreed, looking her slowly up and down. She shivered with anticipation, her blue eyes bright.

"Excuse me, Mademoiselle?"

Elizabeth and George both turned to see the French King standing behind them. He had left Anne to dance with Henry and was instead staring at Elizabeth. She gave an embarrassed little squeak and curtsied. George bowed, but King Francois did not take his eyes off of Elizabeth.

"Bonjour, votre Majeste" she mumbled, struggling with the words. She had always been better at Latin and Spanish than French.

"There is no need to trouble yourself with French, Mademoiselle. I speak perfect English"

"Yes, Majeste" she whispered. Francois smiled lecherously, and George moved instinctively closer to his lover.

"You dance most beautifully, Mademoiselle. I would be honoured if you would allow me a dance"

"Oh, your Majesty, I – " Elizabeth's eyes were wide with panic, but Francois would not take no for answer.

He took her hand and led her to where the other couples were dancing. Mutters flew around the room, from both the French and the English. Elizabeth kept her gaze on the floor beneath her. She was frightened; she wanted George. He stood to the side, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes dark with anger.

"What is your name, Mademoiselle?" Francois asked her as she twirled under his careful guidance.

"Elizabeth" Elizabeth answered, her voice barely audible. Francis placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to look at him. She shivered, this time not from desire.

"That is a beautiful name. For a very beautiful lady"

"Thank you, your Majesty"

"Would you come with me, Mademoiselle Elizabeth?" Francois asked as the dance ended and another began. Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but could not speak.

"But I – "

"Just for a walk, Mademoiselle Elizabeth" he had linked his arm with hers before she could argue and towed her out of the room and into one of the many corridors. As he pulled her away, Elizabeth turned back to George and mouthed 'Help!'. He just shook his head in confusion, frustrated by his own helplessness. He could not punch a King and rescue her!

"Mademoiselle Elizabeth" began King Francois softly as soon as they were alone, " I must confess that I find you extremely beautiful"

"I am flattered, your Majesty, but I – "

Francois placed a finger over her plump lips, "Hush, Mademoiselle Elizabeth"

He leaned in to kiss her, but she jerked away at once.

"Your Majesty, I really must insist that you let me be!" she cried, forgetting herself and letting anger take over, "I am not willing, you Majesty"

"I am the King of France, Mademoiselle Elizabeth"

"S'il vous plait, your Majesty" Elizabeth pleaded, "I must go back to my friend now, your Majesty"

She thought for a moment, trying to remember some of the French Anne had taught her. With a curtsey, she said;

"Je vous remercie pour votre attention" _Thank you for your attentions._

With that, she fled the corridor and ran back to her beloved.


	60. Queen Herod

**A/N: I recently bought (yesterday, actually) Carol Ann Duffy's poetry book 'The World's Wife', which I would recommend to everyone who is awesome and a bit of a feminist. I found several poems that I thought would fit really well with George and Elizabeth's story – so, for the next few chapters, the beginning quotes will be poems, not songs. Hope you like them, please review!**

"_We do our best,_

_We Queens, we mothers,_

_Mothers of Queens._

_We wade through blood_

_For our sleeping girls._

_We have daggers for eyes." – Queen Herod by Carol Ann Duffy._

"I have to save Elizabeth" Anne muttered wildly to herself. For a moment the madness left her eyes and she looked to her childhood friend, who watched her with a concern bordering on fear.

"Not you, of course" Anne continued hurriedly, "My daughter Elizabeth"

"Anne..." Elizabeth rose from her seat and put an arm around Anne's waist to still her restless pacing, "I don't understand. What are you saving her from?"

"Disinheritance, of course" Anne looked at Elizabeth with sharp eyes, as if it were perfectly obvious, "Henry is sick of me, he follows that milksop around with sheep's eyes. It cannot be long before he divorces me like he did Catherine"

Elizabeth gasped, "Anne, no, don't be foolish! Henry loves you"

"He l_oved_ me" Anne corrected, wrenching away from Elizabeth's protective grip, "There is a difference. And while Catherine did not help her daughter-"

"She did try, Anne" Elizabeth interrupted reproachfully, "You know she did"

"Well, where she failed, I will succeed. He will not send me away to the Welsh marches and leave my daughter to rot with a bunch of commoners. She is a Princess of the blood, she stays a Princess"

"If you are so sure that he will divorce you, how can you be sure that he will send you to Wales? He may exile you and Elizabeth to France or to Spain"

"I will not go. I would rather enter into a nunnery and leave Elizabeth here to wait for her time to come"

"Anne, you cannot disobey the King!" Elizabeth looked at her with horror, "See sense, won't you?"

"And if it was your daughter, Liz? What would you do then? If your Alice or little Margaret could be the Queen of England, would you let them be forsaken? Would you let Alice live with strangers or Margaret be exiled to a country where she means nothing to anyone?"

"They would mean something to me" Elizabeth retaliated feebly.

"But you would not give up such an inheritance?" Anne prompted, gazing daggers into her friend's face.

"No" Elizabeth whispered at last, "No, I would fight for them. I am their mother"

"Exactly" Anne whirled around and grasped Elizabeth's hands between her hands, "You're my friend, Liz. You will help me, won't you?"

Elizabeth nodded at once, "As your friend, your subject and a fellow mother, I will help you as best I can to protect your daughter"


	61. Mrs Midas

**A/N: Another Carol Ann Duffy inspired piece. The part in bold italics is a flashback. Please review!**

_I think of him in certain lights, dawn, late afternoon,_

_And once a bowl of apples stopped me dead. I miss most,_

_Even now, his hands, his warm hands on my skin, his touch – Mrs Midas by Carol Ann Duffy_

Elizabeth walked up and down her chamber, rocking her baby son gently in her arms, his bright, intelligent eyes gazing up at her. She heard thudding footsteps and groaned inwardly – he was nearly asleep and Margaret would only wake him. Still, she could forgive her girls anything.

"Mama, Mama, look!" Margaret came rushing in, "Me and Alice picked these from the big tree. Do you want one?"

Elizabeth looked down at the bowl of slightly spotted apples and felt herself freeze, her legs shake a little underneath her.

"Not now, Meg" she murmured.

_**They were sitting on the grassy field at Hever, Elizabeth and George. The sun was hot on their faces, turning them brown as the Spanish Moors. **_

_**George sat sprawled out with a basket of apples on his lap and handed one to Elizabeth. They both bit into it at the same time, and Elizabeth pulled a face and spat her piece out onto the daisies. George did likewise, both of them gagging with the taste.**_

"_**George, these apples are disgusting" Elizabeth complained with a scowl, "I feel sick"**_

"_**They're vile" George agreed, "Good God, no-one can eat these! What shall we do with them?"**_

_**Elizabeth gave a sudden mischievous grin and snatched up the basket. George stared at her.**_

"_**What are you doing?" he exclaimed as she ran a few feet away from him and began pelting him with the apples, giggling like a merry child. George gave a laugh of surprise and began to run too, away from the flying red fruit. The two of them raced around the garden, laughing loudly.**_

_**George finally turned and started running towards her to get his revenge, and she shrieked aloud, dropping the remaining apples on the floor and dashing away from him. He leapt at her with such agility that he knocked her to the ground.**_

_**The two of them lay on the floor, breathless with the exertion, him leaning over her. She smiled confidently, chewing daintily on her lip.**_

"_**What might my punishment be?" she asked sweetly, now pushing her tongue against the rosy pink insides of her lips. George, still hovering above her, ran his ringed fingers through her beautiful red hair, traced the outline of her face. She stopped smiling , her eyes bright with desire as he ran his hands over the curves of her breasts pressed at the top of her gown, searching for the laces to tear her clothing away...**_

"Mama? Are you alright?" Margaret tugged on her mother's sleeve, bringing her back to the present, "We picked these apples specially. Please have one"

Elizabeth smiled, the memory bringing light to her face, "Yes, darling, of course I'll have one"


	62. Anne Hathaway

**A/N: This is one of my favourite CAD poems. Triple points if you can guess what it's actually about. Please review!**

_The bed we loved in was a spinning world_

_Of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas_

_Where he would dive for pearls. My lover's words_

_Were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses_

_On these lips; my body now a softer rhyme_

_To his, now echo, assonance; his touch_

_A verb dancing in the centre of a noun._

_Some night, I dreamed he'd written me, the bed_

_A page beneath his writer's hands. Romance_

_And drama played by touch, by scent, by taste – Anne Hathaway by Carol Ann Duffy (That's pretty much the entire poem there!)_

"George, what on earth _are_ you doing?" Elizabeth giggled as George flung back their bedsheets and scrutinized her with critical eyes. George looked to her and smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"I was thinking that I might try and write a poem for you for Christmas. With Tom Wyatt's help, of course. He said that I would have to know every tiny detail of your beauty to be able to write a true love poem"

"But you must know every detail of my body by now!" Elizabeth exclaimed, laughing, "How many times have you lain with me?"

"Countless times" George agreed, "But I wondered if I had ever really looked at you"

"And have you?" she was curious by this point, she couldn't help it.

"Not so much as I thought..." George began, "That beautiful hair, bright as a jewel...amber, perhaps. And your eyes, the colour of the sky in summer, the ocean on a clear day. The way your nose turns up a little at the end, with those _so_ unladylike freckles. Those full lips, crimson as blood, plump enough to want to kiss...right now" he did so, "That slender neck of yours, like a swan's...maybe even smaller than Anne's, I think. And your breasts..."

"That's quite enough of that" said Elizabeth sternly, but George continued.

"Fine, I'll skip your breasts, though they will be in that poem. That lovely flat belly of yours, with the tiny little button there. And your...well, I'll skip that bit too. But those lovely wide hips, the full thighs that flow out into such delicate, slender legs, your tiny little feet that I can cradle in my hand"

"You make me sound like some sort of goddess" Elizabeth said at last, both flattered and embarrassed. George grinned.

"You are a goddess, my love"

"Oh, George" Elizabeth sighed fondly, "Oh, come here"


	63. Mrs Quasimodo

**A/N: Another CAD poem piece. JANE BOLEYN'S POV, on George's relationship with Elizabeth. I'm a bit worried about this, a lot of sexual suggestion here. Just to warn you. Please review!**

_Better to be slim, be slight_

_Your slender neck quoted between two thumbs;_

_And beautiful, with creamy skin,_

_And tumbling auburn hair,_

_Those devastating eyes;_

_And have each lovely foot_

_Held in a bigger hand_

_And kissed;_

_Then be watched till morning as you sleep,_

_So perfect, vulnerable and young_

_You hurt his blood – Mrs Quasimodo by Carol Ann Duffy_

I slipped out of my bed – the bed that we would have been sharing, had we been a normal married couple, wanting to have heirs and a family. But my husband already had a family, and bastards to inherit, and a woman who was much more his wife than me.

I understood it, of course, as I tiptoed towards the door that he had neglected to close completely. I suppose I will never know whether that was on purpose or a total mistake. Whether he wanted me to see and hear, or whether he wanted me to know as little as possible.

She was prettier than me, much, much prettier with her hair and her eyes and her hair and her body. As I watched they kissed hungrily before the fire, their passion burning more than the flames. Our lovemaking had never been like that. But then, in our coupling, there was no love involved. Not on his part anyway, and not on mine, anymore. Just a thirst for revenge.

She teased him, taunted him, while I watched, as skilful as a practised Parisian whore. He whispered her name, when it should have been mine, over and over again.

I watched them together without flinching, first him on her while she gasped and screamed his name. Then her on him, and somehow that hurt more to watch. She moved on him as though he were her horse, not afraid of riding him too much, and he yelled for her so many times that even when it was over, when she was asleep in his arms and I was trying to sleep in my cold bed, all I could hear was her name ringing in my head.

I would get them both back. Revenge is a dish best served cold.


	64. Penelope

**A/N: A bit of a depressing CAD piece, set after George's death. Elizabeth's POV. Please review! Last one.**

_At first, I looked along the road_

_Hoping to see him saunter home_

_Among the olive trees,_

_A whistle for his dog_

_Who mourned him with his warm head on my knees._

_Six months of this_

_And then I noticed that whole days had passed_

_Without my noticing – Penelope, by Carol Ann Duffy_

It was several weeks after his death that the gift arrived on the doorstep. I was sitting, as always, quite alone in my childhood study, gazing out of the window waiting for him to appear. Not even my children dared disturb me – even the babe in my belly moved only once or twice each day, and I think he only moved then to reassure me that he was still there.

I heard Alice coming up the stairs. She seemed to have grown since George had been taken from us. She was certainly taller, but she carried herself with authority now, and her body was blossoming into something very beautiful. Her face had hardened and lost the roundness of childhood. She did not smile when she saw me, as if she knew that at that time I would not take kindly to smiling. But I saw the sparkle of happiness and relief in her eyes when she saw me sitting there, still well, still alive, though maybe not quite sane.

"There's a lady at the door, Mama. Aunt Aurora told her to go away, but she said she must speak only to you" Alice said tentatively. I frowned.

"If I must" I said, getting up with effort. My belly was beginning to swell and press against my stomacher. I don't really know why I even bothered wearing one. There was no-one to see me with critical eyes.

When I saw who my visitor was, I was glad that I still dressed like a courtier. Jane Parker (I would not give her his name) stood on my doorstep. When she saw me, her smile was vindictive.

"You look a bit of a state" she observed smugly. Aurora looked anxiously at me.

"I did ask her to leave" she mumbled.

"I know. Please fetch Margaret. And Alice, you stay here" my eldest daughter nodded as if she knew what I was planning. Aurora went off to find my youngest, for now.

"And you look far too happy for a widow" I returned calmly.

"Everyone knows that it is you who is the true widow, not I. Just like you were his true wife, and not I"

"Indeed" I agreed, "Did you come here simply to gloat?"

"Mainly. But I also came to give you this" Jane yanked a string of leather attached to her wrist, bringing forward a sweet-eyed hunting dog, "I suppose you recognise him?"

"Orpheus!" I exclaimed, a smile twitching the corner of my lips, my first smile in what felt like forever, "George's hunting dog. I guess that you do not want him?"

"No" said Jane, seeming annoyed by my pleasure in the animal. The dog came rushing at me and licked me all over my hands and face, remembering me. I handed him to Aurora as she came back with Margaret, and she went to take him to the garden.

"A lovely gift, Jane" I said sweetly, "While you are here, do you not wish to admire my daughters? Beautiful, aren't they?"

Jane said nothing, glaring at Alice and a rather terrified Margaret. I urged them both forward, and a smile of pleasure in my torture had made my face bright, given me a purpose.

"Do you see Alice here? She looks ever so like her Father, does she not, a female version of him? Like her Aunt Anne, I think, don't you? And Margaret here, look at her eyes, Alice has them too. His eyes. Does it hurt, seeing them staring at you out of another face?"

Jane said nothing, though she had paled and her eyes were dark with fury. I gestured to the girls that they could leave, and they ran off instantly, probably to play with their new pet.

"And my baby, Jane, do you see the swelling of my belly? Does it anger you?"

Jane shook her head, glaring at me, "Stop it"

I smiled, "This is the first enjoyment I've had for months, I'm not stopping now"

Jane turned around and stormed away, while I stood on the doorstep, doubled over with laughter.


	65. You Won't Feel a Thing

A/N: I thought I'd do the songs from The Script's second album next, as I love them and they fit really well with a lot of the story. I might end up doing the first album too one day...who knows? Please, please, pretty please – review! Thank you Set when George is being questioned in the Tower. I hate how they do this bit in The Tudors.

_When trouble thinks it's found us  
The world falls down around us  
I promise baby you won't ever  
You won't ever feel a thing_

_Cause I will take it on the chin  
Eh, for you  
So they're cuts and bruises over my skin  
I promise you won't feel a thing  
Cause everything the world could throw  
I'll stand in front. I'll take the blow for you.  
For you - You won't feel a thing, The Script._

"So..." Thomas Cromwell paces slowly, deliberately in front of me, his eyes narrowed and his face stern, "You say that you are not guilty?"

"Yes" I sigh. I have said it a million times now, so many times that the words now mean nothing to me at all.

"You dare to lie to me when I carry the King's authority? These lies will pass to him, and it is treason to lie to the King"

"Oh, everything I do is treason in your eyes" I snap, exasperated, "For Heaven's sake, you know as well as I do that these allegations are ridiculous. I would never lay with my sister. You know that. Let me go now"

Cromwell chuckles, "I don't think so. You are not being very co-operative"

"Rack me, then" I growl, "Rack me and torture me like you did to Mark"

"This is different. You are gentry and cannot be racked, though God only knows why" Cromwell hesitates and a menacing smile spreads over his face, "But we could get someone in here that knows a lot about you _and_ your sister. She would be a most invaluable source - I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before"

"I cannot imagine who you mean" I reply at once, my voice steady though my heart is hammering against my ribs. He could not mean Elizabeth. He could not possibly mean Elizabeth, he could not possibly even know of the nature of our relationship...

"I think you do. Mistress Elizabeth Hollington? Your mistress for the last thirteen years, I believe"

"No. How do you - ?" my face has paled and my fists are clenched. Cromwell laughs.

"I make it my business to know everything"

"She would never say a word against Anne and I, and she would never follow along with your lies" I tell him firmly, "She is not like that"

"There are ways of making a maiden talk"

I rise from my seat, trembling all over, "What do you mean by that?"

"We could threaten to harm her children. Her children...who are also your flesh and blood, I believe? Her children...who are your bastards, I think?"

"Don't you even- "

"No, I would never be that cruel. I would never harm a child" says Cromwell, mocking horror at the thought, "But your Elizabeth...she is too strong for a woman. She is like your sister, too strong for a world ruled by men. She deserves to be broken, and she could speak against you as we break her"

"You couldn't hurt her"

"We could. She is much lower in the peerage than you, we could find a loophole somewhere to allow it to happen. We could snap her bones like twigs" Cromwell is leaning closer to me, and his breath reeks of wine, "We could bruise her pretty face, we could strip her naked and lead her through the streets to be whipped. Or I could give her over to the guards here – she is rather lovely, and I'm sure that would appreciate the pleasure that they could gain from her"

"You vile bastard!" I roar, and before I can recall that this is the man that could save my life, I am punching him. In the gut, in the belly, I even make his nose bleed. The guards come rushing in and drag me away from him. Cromwell is laughing wickedly despite the blood running over his thick lips.

"It really is very easy to provoke her. But I see how much this means to you. I won't rack your whore. Her heart will break anyway when you die – I suppose that is punishment enough for her wanton ways" he storms out of the room and the guards drop me back down to slump against the wall. I am still shaking all over, feeling sick with fear.

I will protect Elizabeth now in case there comes a day when I cannot.


	66. Science and Faith

**A/N: Just a bit of a fun one shot set on a summer's day. Elizabeth and George, obviously. That's all I have to say. T he sun has muddled my brain. Please review!**

_You won't find faith or hope down a telescope  
You won't find heart and soul in the stars  
You can break everything down to chemicals  
But you can't explain a love like ours_

_It's the way we feel, yeah, this is real_  
_It's the way we feel, yeah, this is real – Science and Faith, The Script._

"Am I supposed to just sit and be quiet?" Elizabeth asked grumpily as she twisted round to lace up her cherry red gown, "Because you know as well as I do that I hate doing that. In fact, you know as well as I do that it won't happen"

George chuckled, "No, I don't expect you to be quiet. That's why I invited you. He's a scholar, Elizabeth, he's interested in any intellectual discussion, whether it be from a man or a woman"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow sceptically, "Really? Not many men have any interest in my views. In fact...yes, it's just you"

"Well, he's apparently very open-minded. And he is a scientist"

"You know how I feel about this 'science' occupation. Why on earth did you insist I come to dinner?"

"Because I think Doctor Fernhill would be glad of an argument" George grinned, "He was always very competitive when we were at Oxford, and that was before he was a Doctor of science"

Elizabeth leaned closer to the mirror and pinched some colour into her cheeks, "What shall I do with my hair?"

"Leave it" George ran his fingers through her ringlets of stunning auburn hair, "I love it like this. And anyhow, your husband is not here to press the court conventions upon you"

"No" Elizabeth agreed, "It is rather nice to be without him. Come on then, I am sure your science friend will be here by now"

* * *

After dinner, Elizabeth and George led their guest through to the small receiving room at George's manor of Grymston. Doctor Fernhill sat by the fire, despite the humid summer air, and turned to look at Elizabeth.

"I understand, Mistress Hollington, that you do not agree with my occupation" he began, sounding amused. This caused Elizabeth's anger to flare, but she hid it behind a stunning smile and sugar – coated tone.

"Please, do call me Elizabeth. And you are quite correct, I do not agree"

George looked suddenly awkward, "Bess, my love, be nice"

Doctor Fernhill laughed, "Do not worry. I am eager to hear Mistress Ho – Elizabeth's – reasoning"

"I am glad of it" Elizabeth leaned forward, "Your craft, Doctor, tries to gain a practical sense and understanding of the world through experiments and suchlike, is that correct?"

"You are indeed"

"And you are not inclined to give much credit to religious views, is that correct?"

"It is"

"I thought so. But my argument us not about religion. My argument is about love"

"Love?" Doctor Fernhill looked bemused, "I am afraid I do not understand"

"Exactly" Elizabeth's voice was rising in her excitement to make her point, "You spend your days, you and your fellow Doctors of science, trying to prove that everything in this world is entirely logical, that everything has an explanation"

"Which it does" said Doctor Fernhill, intrigued.

"No, it does not!" cried Elizabeth triumphantly, "Love! Love is not logical, and it does not have an explanation. If love was logical then we would all fall in love with whom we were betrothed to from childhood, there would be no unhappy marriages. Why, if love was logical then I daresay I might even love my husband! But I do not. I love George, and that is the most illogical thing my heart could ever decide on. So. What do you say about love?"

Doctor Fernhill's mouth opened and closed; he was speechless with shock at the firmness and accuracy of her argument. George laughed loudly.

"I told you that she was opinionated, Fernhill. And insistent"

"And possibly the cleverest woman I have had the good fortune to meet" Doctor Fernhill said at last, "For I can come up with no retort"

Elizabeth beamed, "Then I am very glad that you came to dinner"

Doctor Fernhill laughed, "You are very lucky to have her, George. You must treasure such a mind as hers"

"I do, though her mind is not the only thing I treasure" George grinned wickedly at her and she shrieked with laughter.

"Doctor Fernhill, I am ever so sorry to be rude, but I think you may have to leave very soon. George and I have plans for this evening. It is not often that we get to spend time alone, away from the prying eyes at court" she said, talking to the Doctor but looking right at George. Fire burned in both their pairs of eyes. Doctor Fernhill laughed.

"Then I will take my leave of you. Thank you, Elizabeth, for giving me so much to think about. I hope that George will invite both of us to debate over dinner again soon"

"Oh, he will" Elizabeth smiled, "Honestly, Doctor, you cannot imagine the power I have over him"

Doctor Fernhill left with a raucous laugh and George pulled Elizabeth forcefully to him. She turned her face up to his, smiling cheekily.

"The power _you_ have over _me_?" George repeated teasingly, his hand lingering over the curve of her breasts, "Come with me"

"Where are we going?" asked Elizabeth, as if she did not already know. George lifted her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs.

"To bed. I'm going to show you how much power I have over you"


	67. Always a Woman

**A/N: I might be publishing this in my joint fiction with Lady Eleanor Boleyn aswell, I need to clear it with her first, but I was listening to this song earlier and I thought it would be perfect. Please review!**

_She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes  
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies  
And she only reveals what she wants you to see  
She hides like a child, but she's always a woman to me_

His memories of Elizabeth could sustain him a lifetime. George considered this as he sat alone in the Tower. The loneliness was driving him insane, making his thoughts spin and whirr uselessly inside his head. He wanted company; he wanted Elizabeth. They had rarely ever spent a night apart, and he longed for her now more than ever.

But she could not come. So he conjured her, like a magician, like a witch, from his memory. His Elizabeth.

He recalled the first time that she had smiled at him after their five years apart, making him fall in love with her all over again. She had stepped down from her carriage and smiled the smile that could start a war, and he had melted. Her bright eyes had widened, almost imperceptibly, at the sight of him, and although she would not admit it for another whole year, he had known on that day that she loved him too. She had changed him for the better, he knew that, and he admired her for it. He could still remember the light in her eyes that day she had handed him her ill-gotten copy of William Tyndale's New Testament and told him that she was a heretic. Within days, he was one too. She had always had an influence over him, even when they were children playing hide and seek in the fields of Hever.

_She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you_  
_She can ask for the truth, but she'll never believe you_  
_And she'll take what you give her as long it's free_  
_Yeah, She steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me_

He loved her so much, and after tomorrow he would never see her again. His beautiful rose, his angel, his jewel. He recalled all the times that she had rejected such nicknames, calling them silly. He knew that it was really because it embarrassed her, so he did it more often, their secret notes to each other becoming so flamboyant that eventually a whole page of parchment could be filled when only a simple yes or no had been required. He remembered her once inquiring as to whether he had ever called another woman such names, and how surprised and sceptical she was when he replied with a no. She only relented after he spent hours persuading her that night in bed, until she screamed her forgiveness with her nails clawing at his chest.

_Ohhh... she takes care of herself  
She can wait if she wants, she's ahead of her time  
Ohhh... and she never gives out  
And she never gives in, she just changes her mind  
_

He thought that maybe in the future – maybe when his little niece Elizabeth was Queen of England – all women would be like his Elizabeth. All women would one day be clever and witty and sparkling and beautiful. All women would stand their ground and fight back whenever something angered them or hurt them, and maybe one day women would learn to protect themselves more from harm – the one thing his Elizabeth had never achieved.

_And she'll promise you more than the garden of Eden_  
_Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding_  
_But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be_  
_Blame it all on yourself 'cause she's always a woman to me_

During the year that he had wanted her, desired her, dreamed of taking her every night for the rest of his life, she had seemed like an exotic flower straight from the garden of Eden. With most women, after the chase, they became dull and wifely. But not his Elizabeth. She was even more exotic than he had expected, she was bold and fierce and completely shameless. She had bought out the animal in him, and, more surprisingly, the poet and the romantic. Of course they argued, what self-respecting couple did not? But they could never be angry for long. They loved each other too much to be angry for long.

God, he was going to miss her.

_Ohhh... she takes care of herself  
She can wait if she wants, she's ahead of her time  
Ohhh... and she never gives out  
And she never gives in, she just changes her mind_

_She's frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel_  
_She can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool_  
_And she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree_  
_And the most she will do is throw shadows at you,_  
_But she's always a woman to me_


	68. 17th May 1536 475 Years ago today

**A/N: So, as I hope you all know, today is the anniversary of George Boleyn's untimely death (I'd prefer to call it murder), and I desperately wanted to write something for him. So, in the midst of all my exams, I have come up with this. For George Boleyn, Mark Smeaton, Francis Weston, Henry Norris and William Brereton – may you all rest in peace.**

**Please review!**

_I'm kissing your lips but it just don't feel the same  
Am I dead there now, left living with the blame  
Oh I hear the angels talking talking talking  
Now I'm a dead man walking walking walking..._

_I'm a breathing, talking  
Dead man, walking – Dead Man Walking, The Script_

George stood in the icy cold corridor, hovering just beside the door that, once opened, would become the entryway to the scaffold and his death. He could not help himself from shaking, though he desperately longed to show dignity in courage, as he knew that Anne would soon. Dear Anne. He had not seen her for weeks, but soon they would be together in paradise forever.

But Elizabeth would not be with him.

As he closed his eyes to picture he once again, as he had recently become an expert at doing, he felt a hand pulling feebly but insistently at his sleeve. Filled with fear that his time had come already, his eyes flew open, only to see Mark Smeaton, broken down from the rack and the beatings, tugging at his arm pathetically.

"I am so sorry" Mark rasped, his voice barely there, "I am very sorry for what I have done to Anne. You were both dear friends to me"

George swallowed his pride, "They would have killed her anyway, Mark. I understand"

Francis, Harry and William had lined up behind Mark. None of the five men made eye contact with one another, to scared of what might be said. It was time for quiet reflection, for repenting. It was not the time for blame and anger.

George heard a sudden yell from outside, "Madam, stay where you are!"

"Please!" a very familiar voice cried out in response, "Please, I simply must go in there, just for a few moments! Move out of my way!"

George couldn't help but feel a warm glow of pride as he heard Elizabeth's persistent struggling to get to him, and for just a second, he even smiled. He could hear the delicate pattering of her running footsteps, and she came hurtling in, pushing open the doors with gusto.

She was breathless and exhausted from struggling with the guards, her skin lily-white and drawn, made even paler by the dull black of her simple mourning gown.

"You've put your gown on a little early, I think" George observed wryly, his voice very soft. She shrieked and flew into his arms, knocking him into Mark.

Elizabeth leaned around him to look to Mark, "I am ever so sorry – Oh!" she gasped, the sight of his battered face horrifying her. George gently turned her face back to him.

"What are you doing here? We said our goodbyes yesterday" he couldn't help but be thankful for the intrusion as she laid her cheek against his palm before turning to kiss his fingertips.

"I couldn't stand knowing you were in here without saying goodbye" she had started to cry, tears staining her face. George traced the dark circles underneath her eyes.

"You haven't slept well, my love. Those cycles beneath your eyes are even worse than the ones you had after we had spent a whole night...not sleeping"

"You think I can sleep?" she retorted sharply, "You think I'll ever sleep again?"

"I suppose not" he rested a hand over her belly, "You have to try though. For our son"

"Of course" Elizabeth stared up at him, "This is it" she continued in a whisper, "Are you scared?"

"Terrified" George replied quietely. Elizabeth leaned up and kissed him fiercely on the mouth.

"To make you brave" she murmured with a smile, glancing towards the door, "I have to leave. They said I could only have five minutes...that was after I kicked the fat one in the groin. It was quite fun, you know. The most fun I'm likely to ever have, now that you're going" she suddenly burst into tears, real, heart-wrenching sobs. George held her tightly one more time, inhaling her scent, enjoying the feel of her warm body against his.

"I love you" he told her with a small smile of his own, "Now get out there and smile at me when I come out. Make me braver"

"I will" Elizabeth promised, still holding onto his hand as she moved towards the door, "I love you"

The minute she let go, hope was gone.

He was going to die.


	69. Somewhere

**A/N: Hi! Sorry it's been a while, I'm right in the midst of my exams now – five left to go! – and revision is getting more than a little boring, so I decided to treat you and my self. I have three chapter ideas, though whether I do them all today is another story...please read and review!**

_And if you have a minute why don't we go  
Talk about it somewhere only we know?  
This could be the end of everything  
So why don't we go  
Somewhere only we know? – Somewhere only we know, Keane._

30th April 1536

Elizabeth walked through the maze garden at Hampton court palace, her green and ivory skirt swishing softly over the ground. Her eyes darted warily around as she searched for spies – Anne claimed to have seen dozens in the past few months, since she had miscarried the prince, and Elizabeth believed her. And she could not afford to be found, especially not now, when all was so strange.

The gardens were quiet, which was unusual – where were the musicians hidden in the hedges, ready to delight with spontaneous playing? Where were the children of noblemen running through the maze in the gowns and breeches that seemed far to adult for them? Elizabeth

Longed for the sound of their sunny laughter – there had been no laughter recently.

She made her way down to the riverbank by the Thames, a place where she and George had spent many days. No-one else had ever come there except the two of them, and they had always felt safe there. They felt much safer there than they did with the court nowadays.

George sat there, waiting for her. His handsome face was creased with worry and fear, his hands clasped so tightly together that the knuckles were white. He leapt up when he saw her coming towards him, her face framed prettily by the sunlight, her red hair falling loose from its bun. She ran to him and they held each other as though they had not been together for weeks, though it had only been one night. George had gone to stay at an inn in the midst of London to find out what the peasants were saying about Queen Anne and King Henry's relationship – the common people quite often knew more than the courtiers themselves. Elizabeth guessed from his face that what he had heard had not been reassuring.

"You look ill" she murmured anxiously, cupping his face in her hands, "And exhausted. Have you not been sleeping still?"

"Barely at all" George replied wearily, "I cannot. Everything is so tense here, and that feeling just seems to stay with me even when I try to relax. Has anything happened here?"

"No. Why? What have you heard?" Elizabeth stared at him, wide eyed, and moved her hands to grasp his instead. She lead him to the bank to sit, the water lapping at the hem of her gown, and looked expectantly at him.

George grasped her hand more fiercely, "They say that Anne losing the babe was the last straw, and Jane Seymour is merely adding fuel to the flames. They say that Henry will divorce our Anne and marry Jane Seymour...and he'll put Anne in a convent, or on a ship to France" George paused, his voice thick, "But she won't go, Bess. You know Anne as well as I do, and she _won't go_!"

"My love!" Elizabeth exclaimed, his fear frightening her, "Why would she not go? She would have no choice"

"Because of Elizabeth" said George, his eyes boring urgently into hers, willing her to see, "Because of her daughter"

Elizabeth frowned, uncomprehending, "George, I still don't understand..."

"She'd die for Elizabeth's inheritance!" the words exploded loudly out of George's mouth before he could stop them. Elizabeth clapped her hands to her mouth in horror. The idea of death associated with Anne was too much to bear.

"No, George..." she whispered, "No, don't be foolish. She would never"

"Have you not heard her these past few weeks? All she talks about is her beloved daughter – she's clinging to the memory of that pretty little toddler that she hasn't seen for a long time. She'd do anything for that girl. Anything"

Elizabeth gulped, "You mean...?"

"This could be the end for us all. The end of Anne's reign, the end of our hopes for Elizabeth, the end of our life here at court...and the end of my sister's life" George looked at her, reaching out to stroke her cheek lightly, "I love you more than anything in the world, Bess, but...Anne is my sister. She means so much to me. I can't imagine life without her"

Elizabeth shook her head, determination burning bright in her eyes, "It will not come to that, dearest. I promise"


	70. The Passion in Anger

**A/N: I got the Glee Warblers album yesterday (as any Glee fan will guess from the next few chapters!) and was inspired by loads of the songs...so here we go! Please read and review! It would make me so happy! Thank you **

_And I want it bad  
Because you walk pretty  
Because you talk pretty  
'Cause you make me sick  
And I'm not leaving  
Till you're leaving.._

_When I get you alone  
When I get you you'll know babe – When I get you alone, Glee cast version._

Elizabeth and George walked, arms linked, through the maze garden. They were alone – it was a chilly, blustery sort of day that no-one else would have ever gone out in. But Elizabeth and George were desperate for some privacy to discuss the issues hovering around the court – and, in particular, the issues surrounding Anne.

"I just heard someone" said Elizabeth suddenly, yanking her arm out of George's grip, "Go over there a bit"

George laughed, "Everyone knows that we're together all the time, Bess. They think I'm like a brother to you"

"Well, it only takes one person to realise that that's a li – Oh. Good day to you, Master Seymour"

Edward Seymour, the elder brother of the simpering slut Jane, had appeared from behind one of the hedges and was looking at the couple with narrowed eyes. Elizabeth did not bob a curtsey to him, as she did with others, but instead inclined her head, just slightly, to acknowledge him. George ignored him completely, just as Edward was ignoring him.

"Good day, Mistress Smythe. Should you not be with your mistress? She already has one less serving lady due to my sister's temporary absence" he was smirking as he spoke. Elizabeth's eyes flashed, but she smiled sweetly at him.

"Tis hardly an absence at all, I think" she retorted prettily, "Queen Anne hardly misses her"

Edward's eyes darkened and George wondered if he should step in. But he knew that Elizabeth liked to fight her own battles, especially the verbal kind. She was good at them.

"The King seems to miss her when they are apart" Edward lashed out, "I assume that is why he has retreated to Wolf Hall with her today"

"Yes. I suppose that is why he will return to our Queen Anne with a smile and an invitation to his bed" Elizabeth did not care about being demure now; she was too angry. She straightened her back, increasing her intimidation factor, and turned away. As she did, however, Edward Seymour grasped her thin wrist tightly. George went to dart towards him.

"Let her go" he demanded. Edward did not appear to hear him, but Elizabeth did. She looked at him, her eyes burning, and he knew that she wanted the chance to do this alone, to take Edward Seymour down a peg or two. He moved back, hovering awkwardly.

Elizabeth eyes blazed, her cheeks flushed with anger, her bosom heaved, as she turned back to Edward, and George found himself wanting to scoop her up in his arms and ravage her in the hay. He reddened. She'd kill him for that thought. It didn't stop him wanting her though.

"Get your thieving, grasping hands off of my arm" Elizabeth voice was brittle and icy. Edward looked slightly taken aback and removed his arm.

"You're on the wrong side" he hissed, "You're not a Howard and you're not a Seymour, you can pick your sides. And you're on the wrong one"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?" she took a step closer to him, "I am on the side of my friend, who also happens to be the Queen of England. Not being loyal to her is treason, I do believe. Maybe I shall tell her of your treasonous thoughts"

She turned away, as if to leave him again, then whirled suddenly around and struck him across the face, "Good day, Master Seymour"

Edward Seymour stared at her with anger and hatred in his gaze, his cheek stinging, before dashing away. Elizabeth turned to George, still red with rage, "I suppose he's gone to tell Thomas Seymour. The foolish bastard and his bitch of a sister"

George was still staring at her. She looked back at him, and the fire died in her eyes. She giggled.

"What?"

"You're amazing" George said at last, "And I really, really want you when you're angry"

Elizabeth burst out laughing and moved closer, "Do you really?"

"Most definitely. When I get you alone...well, the things I'll do to you when I get you alone are unspeakable"

Elizabeth grinned, grabbing him by the fabric of his doublet, "Come with me then. I don't think I can wait to find out"


	71. Seasick

**A/N: I am slightly ashamed to admit it, but I absolutely loved this song when I heard it in Glee. It just makes me want to dance...which is not a pretty sight, believe me. This one is set during the year when George and Elizabeth weren't together, but desperately wanted to be...they were just too scared to say it. Please review, I didn't get any for the last one! xx**

_We've been here too long tryin' to get along  
Pretending that you're, oh, so shy  
I'm a natural man doin' all I can  
My temperature is runnin' high_

Friday night no one in sight  
And we got so much to share  
Talkin's fine if you got the time  
I ain't got the time to spare – Do you wanna touch, Gwyneth Paltrow and Glee cast version.

Elizabeth composed a delightful smile onto her pretty face and tried not to look as ill as she felt. This was her first time on the King and Queen's barge, her first time on any form of boating vehicle, and she had found that she really didn't like it. The rocking of the boat on the waves was making her feel more than a little queasy, and she could feel already that her face was terrible pale, deprived of the roses she should have had in her cheeks on such a lovely summer's day.

Anne, Mary and Aurora were racing about the deck in eager excitement, as were most of the other courtiers, leaning over the edging of the barge to wave at gaping peasants. Elizabeth looked down at the wooden deck and tried to pretend that she was in a swaying carriage, rather than a tossing barge.

"Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth reddened at the sound of the voice that always melted her heart - she didn't want George to see her like this! He only ever saw her when she was looking her best, which she was sure she wasn't, at the present time.

"Hello, George" she looked up at last, fixing him with a sparkling smile that took his breath away. George sat down beside her and studied her fretfully.

"Are you well, Elizabeth? You would usually be exploring as giddily as my sisters" George grinned ruefully, jesting to a giggly and over-excited Mary, who had also never been on a barge before.

George could swear that his heart stopped when Elizabeth looked at him with her beautiful piercing eyes and whispered, "Can you keep a secret?"

George nodded, "Of course, if it is yours"

"I think I am seasick" she informed him softly, "I feel terribly unwell. How long is the journey?"

"We have about another half-hour to go yet" George told her regretfully, "I am sorry"

Elizabeth groaned, "This is ridiculous. Why do we even have to go on a progress? Why can't we ride?"

George squeezed her hand gently, consoling her, though his cheeks reddened as he did so and her eyes widened, "I think that barging upriver seemed the best possible plan, in the King's eyes"

Elizabeth huffed, "Certainly not in mine" she looked down at their intertwined hands, as though she expected him to let go. When he did not, she looked away from him, hiding her thoughts.

George admired her then, while she was not watching him. The elegant, swan like arch of her throat, the strand of russet hair that fell out from beneath her coif and floated in the breeze, the delicate eyelashes that framed eyes much brighter blue than the water of the river they now floated upon. He made a sudden and possibly not very wise decision.

"Won't you come with me? There is a small compartment at the back of the barge, for if the heat gets too much, and maybe from there you will not be able to see the water. I'm sure that would help you greatly"

"Oh, really? Thank you, George, I'm sure you're right" the two of them rose, hands still clasped. George guided Elizabeth into the compartment. No-one else was there.

"It's not working" Elizabeth grumbled, after a few moments spent chatting in the strange box-like room, "George, what shall I do?"

George swallowed audibly, "I think I can make you feel better"

She frowned, "Really? How – Oh!"

George leaned towards her and kissed her full on the lips. She gasped in surprise, then clung to him in return.

Of course, later on they would pretend that it had been purely to cure her. But she knew better.

He just couldn't wait any longer to touch her!


	72. Light Up

**A/N: I've got to be honest, I'm not sure how well this will work. The plan for this chapter is to actually turn song lyrics into speech, because the song fits so well. I really, really need feedback on this one, I know it's going to worry me. The song is 'Run' by Leona Lewis, which I do not own. PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you xxxx**

I can't even look at him. My George.

I'm standing in this horrid room with him, crows cawing harshly outside, shivering in the cold damp air, and I can't even bear to look into his beautiful black eyes. Because this is the last time I'll see him. And for the moment, it's enough to be standing here, my gaze avoiding his, holding his hands – but I have so much to say. And even though I know it's impossible, I still want us to run away, to get out of this. There's so much left to say, so much left to do – there's the children! Yet I don't know where to begin.

I force myself to look at him, the love of my life, his face haggard now, with tiredness and worry, and make myself speak.

"_I'll_ _sing it one last time for you...Then we really have to go. You've been the only thing that's right; In all I've done..._" I hesitate, shaking, but his eyes push me to continue, "_And I can barely look at you... But every single time I do... I know we'll make it anywhere, Away from here"_

George smiles at me, strokes my cheek with the flat of his hand as he feels me tremble at his touch, his smile, "_Light up, light up, As if you have a choice. Even if you cannot hear my voice; I'll be right beside you, dear_"

I smile tearfully at him, urging him to continue. I place my hand over his, still resting on my face, as he speaks again.

"_Louder, louder, And we'll run for our lives... I can hardly speak, I understand... why you can't raise your voice to say"_

I gulp, "_To think I might not see those eyes... Makes it so hard not to cry. And as we say our long goodbye... I nearly do"_

_Light up, light up  
As if you have a choice  
Even if you cannot hear my voice  
I'll be right beside you dear_

_Louder louder_  
_And we'll run for our lives_  
_I can hardly speak I understand_  
_Why you can't raise your voice to say_

He brushes a ringlet of hair away from my face and kisses me softly on the lips, pulls me close to him, just like he always has done before. He leads me towards his tiny, dilapidated bed for one last time, and I'm glad of it. This is it.

_Light up, light up  
As if you have a choice  
Even if you cannot hear my voice  
I'll be right beside you dear_

_Louder louder_  
_And we'll run for our lives_  
_I can hardly speak I understand_  
_Why you can't raise your voice to say_


	73. Margaret and Robert

**A/N: My first Forbidden Love's Legacy for Behind the Scenes! This is what happened before Eric and Alice started listening into Margaret and Robert Dudley's conversation in chapter 22. It's slightly different to the chapter. Please review!**

_One night and one more time  
Thanks for the memories  
Even though they weren't so great  
He tastes like you only sweeter – Thanks for the Memories, Fall Out Boy._

Margaret moved busily around the chamber she and Eric shared, looking for the chemise that she knew he had her certain fondness for when she wore it. It had been flung somewhere one night last week, and she couldn't spot it anywhere. She had heard from Alice that it would not harm her babe to lie with Eric, and she had fully embraced this idea.

Unbeknownst to her, that day Margaret was looking at her most natural best. These early days of pregnancy were agreeing with her well, making her look very pretty. Her figure was still intact – the baby was so young in her body that it had not yet grown to anything bigger than a pea. Her russet red hair, inherited from her mother, was pinned up messily, delicate strands falling elegantly around her glowing face and showing off her long neck. She wore a simple gown, she did not feel like doing very much that day. Of course, she had been to chapel with the Queen and everyone else, but now she had little else to do but be ready for Eric upon his return – he had taken Alice for a walk about the gardens that she so loved, on Margaret's insistence.

"Well, well, Mistress Margaret! Well met – you look prettier than ever before"

As Margaret turned slowly, horrified by the familiar voice, Robert Dudley offered her an exaggerated bow.

"Lord Robert! What on earth are you doing here?" she gaped at him, dishevelled and drunken as he looked, "You cannot just walk into my chamber unannounced! I would thank you to leave at once"

Robert smiled at her, the smile of a hunter that has found it's pray, "You don't want me to leave, Mistress Margaret. Meg. You still want me, of course you do. You remember what a wonderful time we used to have...in my bed. None of the other women at court are like you, none of them are as...experienced as you appeared to be. Lying with you was like being with the finest Parisian whore"

Margaret snorted, a light blush upon her cheeks, "And that was supposed to be a compliment? You expected that speech to make me fall into your arms and ravish you all over again?"

Robert looked surprised, "Well...yes"

Margaret grinned, "More fool you. I know that I was good, but you...well, it worked at the time, but if I'm honest, Lord Robert, I can do better. And have done. My husband is far superior to you"

Robert opened and closed his mouth a few times, speechless. Meg giggled. She could almost hear her mother's cheer of approval at the cruel words.

"Thank you for everything, Lord Robert, but...I don't think I'll be needing your services any longer. Now, if you'll please excuse me, dear...I'm trying to find a little present for my husband that I seem to have misplaced!"


	74. Dresses

**A/N: This chapter is just a bit of light-hearted fun dreamed up by me on one of the many nights I couldn't sleep. This one is also based round a poem. Please read and review!**

_My Love in her attire doth show her wit,_

_It doth so well become her;_

_For every season she hath dressings fit,_

_For Winter, Spring and Summer._

_No beauty she doth miss_

_When all her robes are on;_

_But Beauty's self she is_

_When all her robes are gone. – Madrigal, Anonymous poet._

"Thank you so for agreeing to help me" Elizabeth beamed and kissed George's cheek as he sat down at the end of her bed. She had set up her pretty dressing screen and all of her different coloured dresses, and was looking at George with such optimistic expectancy that he became a little worried.

"Why do you need me to judge how you look in all of your gowns? You look beautiful in all of them"

"This will be my gown for Anne's coronation! I did suggest to her that she give us all the same gown – to make us look organised, you understand. But she insisted that she wants us all to look completely individual, not realising that that puts more pressure on us than ever!" Elizabeth's voice was high pitched, and her eyes wide – she looked almost wild with the stress of picking out the perfect coronation gown, "All you have to do is tell me how I look and which one suits me best"

George sighed, laying down on the bed. He had correctly anticipated that this could take a while. Elizabeth beamed at him again, pleased with his co-operation, and set about trying on every colour of gown that she owned (except the black, of course).

Yellow.

"You look like a ray of sunshine, darling"

Green.

"Ah, you look like Guinevere, my princess"

Blue.

"You look like a sweet angel, dear heart"

Orange.

"You burn as a bright as a candle flame, my beauty"

Silver.

"You shimmer like the moon, dearest"

Pink.

"You look like a flower, my rose"

White.

"You look like a dream-cloud, floating in the sky, my sweetheart"

Red.

"Oh, in that you are a true temptress, my love"

George heard a growl of frustration as Elizabeth undressed behind her screen. She stormed out from behind it, quite furious, her hands on her hips, glaring at him. She was completely naked.

"I knew I should have asked Mary to help me instead!" she exploded, not noticing that his eyes were roaming over her body and his ears not listening to her much at all, "You are completely useless! You've said pretty things and made me blush when I try on every dress, but you've not told me once which one I should wear for the most important event of your sister's life!"

George chuckled softly, not at all distressed by her anger. He rose from the bed and moved steadily towards her.

"Do you truly want to know which one I like the best?" he asked her softly. She nodded crossly.

"Yes!"

"I like this one"

Elizabeth frowned and looked down at herself. She gasped, and reddened.

"Oh, George, for goodness sake!" she cried, but she was smiling as he pulled her towards him, "No. No, you shan't come anywhere near me until you tell me what dress you liked best"

"The red. You must have known that I'd say the red"

"Hm" Elizabeth conceded at last, "Alright then. But Anne's expecting me back by midday"

"Pff" George grinned, "I can handle her"


	75. Fireside

A/N: Another one based on a poem...I hope you like it! Please review, I haven't gotten very many lately Thank you for reading!

_Oh, I must feel your brain prompt mine,_

_Your heart anticipate my heart,_

_You must be just before, in fine,_

_See and make me see, for your part,_

_New depths of the divine! – By the Fire-Side, Robert Browning._

George regarded his mistress with a small, affectionate smile that she did not see. She was seated upon an armchair in his chamber, before a warm and crackling fire, wrapped in one of his fur robes. They had such Sundays as these roughly once every six months, when they spent the entire day in each other's company without any interruption.

Elizabeth was sitting reading quietely, her face made golden and glowing from the light of the fire, not to mention an entire morning of love making. Her beautiful hair, today falling in elegant ringlets, was tousled and ruffled, fluffed up like the tail of an angry cat. Her bright blue eyes roamed across the page as she read, and every so often she would give a wry smile, sometimes chuckle, sometimes place a hand over her heart and sigh at the pure romance of the tale. George, sitting on a separate armchair and wrapped in a second robe, had also been reading – but his book was finished, and instead he had chosen to watch his lover as she filled her mind with tales of chivalry and magic.

He felt as though he could hear her heartbeat, even from the other side of the room. She was, in the fullest sense of the phrase, his other half. He truly believed that without her he would be unable to function, unable to breathe, unable to hear the heavy thud of his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears. Sometimes, he became certain that she could read his thoughts, so interlinked with them were her suggestions and ideas. She could read his moods as easily as she could read a book – she knew when he needed her to be gentle and quiet, when he wanted her to be fierce and passionate, when he wanted her to mother and fuss over him as she did their daughters.

"What are you thinking?" she enquired softly, not looking up from the page. He smiled.

"I'm thinking about how I couldn't live without you" he replied truthfully. Elizabeth snorted, putting the book down and looking at him with her piercing eyes.

"You could easily live without me. I'm not all that special, you know. You might end up visiting a lot of brothels – I don't think anyone else but me could keep up with _you_ – but you'd do well enough, my love"

George rose from the armchair and squeezed onto the seat beside her, stroking her hair, "I could never be without you. I love you, foolish girl that you are"

Elizabeth laughed loudly, "I'm not the fool here, dearest"

George grinned, "Maybe not. But you look lovely in my robe"

She winked suggestively at him, "I'm sure I'd look a lot better out of it"

"See!" George cried triumphantly, "You _can r_ead my thoughts!"

She grinned back at him, "If you could read mine right now, you'd be blushing"

She kissed him warmly on the mouth, and before the burning embers of the fire, they made love once more.


	76. Hair

**A/N: Hi! I update this story far too regularly, I think, but I enjoy writing it. I keep not getting any reviews though! That makes me very depressed. Anyway, this chapter might warrant an M rating, I'm not too sure yet. George has just come back from yet another mission to France.**

_O loaded curls, release your store,_

_Of warmth and scent as once before_

_The tingling hair did, lights and darks_

_Out-breaking into fairy sparks_

_When under curl and curl I pried_

_After the warm and scent inside_

_Thro' lights and darks how manifold – _

_The dark inspired, the light controlled!_

_As early art embrowned the gold. – In Three Days, Robert Browning._

George slipped into Elizabeth's bedchamber in the dead of night, as he had done many times before. But this time was different – this time she was not waiting for him, but asleep, not anticipating his arrival. He moved towards her, laying asleep in her bed. It was a hot night, and she had chosen to sleep with no clothing on, which inflamed his desire at once.

He lifted the sheet and climbed in beside her – her long, luxurious hair tickled his nose as it fanned out across the pillow. He picked up one glossy red curl, and marvelled at how, in that one chunk of hair, there were so many shades of light and dark. He leaned closer, inhaling the citrus scent of her recently washed locks, so familiar to him. Before he had met Elizabeth, he had never imagined that hair could be considered so erotic, so exotic, as he considered hers to be. He could feel his desire rising to a point where it was almost unbearable as he ran his fingers through her hair. Unable to contain himself any longer, he planted a kiss on her lips, a rather insistent kiss, designed to jerk her into wakefulness. It worked.

"George..." she murmured sleepily, her blue eyes fluttering open and gazing at him. Her face lit up at once.

"George!" she cried, flinging her arms around him, the sheets almost flying off of the bed, "Oh, I have missed you! My love! What are you doing back so so – oh!" she gave a little gasp as he pushed the rest of the sheets to the floor and grasped her familiar breast in his hand. Her eyes widened slightly as his desire became apparent to her.

"You certainly missed me" she mumbled, grinning slightly. George ran his fingers through her hair once again.

"What do you expect when you lay there completely naked with your hair smelling so delicious and flowing like silk?" he retorted, smiling himself. She raised her eyebrows.

"I never knew that my hair held such a deep attraction for you" she admitted, pushing him off of her and rolling so that she was on top of him, her waves of hair brushing over his chest, "I shall make sure to use it a lot more often, now that I know it"

He could swear that he felt sparks dancing behind his eyes at the sight of her, proud and beautiful, perched on top of him.

"Of course it does" he managed to gasp, "Everything about you holds attraction for me"

"Flattery will certainly get you somewhere tonight" she whispered in his ear, "I can't wait to show you how much I've missed you"


	77. The Best Thing

**A/N: I haven't updated it AGES, I miss this story I hope you like it! Please review, I haven't got any and I'm very sad about it! Thanks for reading! Set when George and Elizabeth aren't at court yet.**

_Do you remember we were sitting there by the water?  
You put your arm around me for the first time  
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter  
You are the best thing that's ever been mine – Mine, Taylor Swift._

Elizabeth looked out across the lake, smiling, the sun slowly tanning her face. Her head was tilted back, her lips parted slightly, as though she were drinking in the light. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes brushing her cheeks, and she hummed a song in the back of her throat.

This was how George came across her, sitting there by the lake at Hever, humming, dreaming, and quite frankly, looking absolutely stunning. He grinned to himself. He'd missed Elizabeth.

"Bess!" he hollered from the top of the hill, starting to run his way down, like they had done as children. Elizabeth's eyes flew open and she gave a loud shriek of delight. She scooped up her skirts, stumbling to her feet, and rushed towards him. They skidded to a halt before they could get too close, and grinned at each other.

"I didn't know you were coming back! Anne's here, you know. She's leaving again in two days" Elizabeth hesitated, "Oh. That's why you came, isn't it? Silly me!"

"Well, sort of" George looked awkward, "I came to see you, too, of course"

"Oh, you don't have to lie" Elizabeth shrugged and looked away, "It's fine. Of course you came to see your sister"

"Why don't we sit down for a moment? You looked ever so peaceful, by the river" George guided her towards the lake, and she looked up at him, confused.

"I thought you wanted to see Anne?"

"I told you, I came to see you too. Sit down" he sat, and she followed, looking confused.

"Are you staying just today?" she asked, making pleats in her skirt. George shrugged.

"I don't know"

A chill came up from the lake as the sun was obscured by a cloud. Elizabeth shivered.

"Are you cold?" George asked anxiously and, without waiting for an answer, put his arm around her.

Elizabeth jumped slightly at the unexpected contact, then looked up at him. She said nothing, but she leaned back against his shoulder, a little smile on her face.

George's arm tightened around her.

* * *

"Do you remember that day?" George asked, smiling, "How surprised you were that I dared put my arm around you?"

Elizabeth giggled, playing with his dark hair, "Yes. And now's there's not a part of me that you haven't touched"

They both laughed, loudly.

"I remember that day a lot" said Elizabeth after a moment, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, you know. I thought it on that day and I still think it now"

"I think it too. All the time" George ran his hand down over her throat and collarbone, stopping at her breasts, "It's a good thing that we loved each other back. Else I don't know what I would have done"

"No, me neither" Elizabeth kissed his neck, "It's been hard, but I would never, ever want to be without you. You're the best thing that's ever been mine"


	78. Reflections

**A/N: Sorry I don't get to update this as often as I'd like to! Thank you so much for your reviews! This is another short one based on a Carol Ann Duffy poem from her new book "The Bees". I do not own it, but I do own Elizabeth! Haha! Anyway, please review! I'd be ever so grateful :D**

_I think I was searching for treasures or stones_

_In the clearest of pools_

_When your face..._

_When your face , _

_Like the moon in a well_

_Where I might wish..._

_Might well wish_

_For the iced fire of your kiss;_

_Only on water my lips, where your face..._

_Where your face was reflected, lovely,_

_Not really there when I turned_

_To look behind at the emptying air..._

_The emptying air. – Echoes, Carol Ann Duffy, 'The Bees'._

"Mama! Mama, look! George is swimming!" Margaret was holding her plump baby brother around his dear little belly while he splashed his legs in the water. Her hair was heavy with the water that he kicked up, but her slender face showed nothing but joy. Alice was laughing, standing a little way ahead of them, and encouraging George with the clapping of her hands. Both girls were in their undergarments and were soaked through, but still sweating under the merciless sun. Rare was it to be so hot in England, and it was affecting them all. As the small broken family sat enjoying themselves by the river, Elena was tucked up in bed with a fever and delirium, with Eric refusing to leave her side. Elizabeth had had to leave the house. She was scared that Elena might die, and God knows, she had seen enough death to last a lifetime.

"That's wonderful, darlings!" she called brightly, smiling at them, moving her feet in little circles under the water, creating pretty ripples, "Be careful, and don't you dare to let him fall!"

"Of course we won't, Mama!" Alice cried indignantly, "D'you think we'd ever let anything happen to George?"

Elizabeth laughed, "I know you wouldn't, my dear. I would trust both of you with his life. I just worry, you know that"

"I know" Alice replied, and where most young girls would have sounded exasperated, her voice rang out clear and full of sympathy. Elizabeth smiled over at her eldest. Alice understood. Alice understood far too much for one so young.

"Can we go out a little further, Mama? To the creek, there? I promise we'll be careful!" Margaret pleaded, her face eager and innocent. She had picked up George and was holding him against her. It looked strange, the scrawny, short child holding such a plump and bonny baby. She hesitated.

"He's not too heavy for you?" she queried anxiously. Margaret shook her head vehemently.

"No, Mama! And if he does get too heavy, I shall give him to Alice, I promise!"

"Alright. But not for long. We had better get back soon. If Elena is still too unwell for Aunt Aurora to leave her, we shall have to help cook prepare for dinner, alright?"

"Yes, Mama!" the two girls chorused, and eagerly began wading their way through the icy water, dragging George along with them.

Elizabeth looked down into the water and her swirling feet and wriggling toes. She made pretty patterns with them, smiling. Oh, how many days had she spent as a young court beauty, sat by the river Thames with George doing just this sort of thing! And now look at her. She was in the middle of the country, a mother, as much a widow as one can be without being married, living with her cousin who still had the love of her life, with a sick niece and a baby to care for, helping with the cooking and cleaning and wearing ratty old gowns! And she was ageing. Yet the only thing that she would change about this pitiless existence was the fact that George and Anne were dead. If they could just be here, sharing this life with her, then she would bear it easily. Oh, if George were here now, his head resting on her shoulder, hollering to their beautiful children as they splashed in the creek! Oh, and to have Anne sitting on her other side, singing a French aria with her dark eyes flashing restlessly about and her harsh laugh making the children jump in startled surprise! What she wouldn't give...

Elizabeth looked down into the water again and let out a great gasp of surprise. As she looked down at her reflection, George was there, his head leaning on her bare shoulder, making tiny braids in her flowing titian hair. He was smiling at her, in the water's reflection, as clear as though she were looking into a mirror. And...yes, it was Anne, there, on her other side! And if she strained her ears a little, she could hear a haunting melody, sung in Anne's beautiful trembling soprano! Anne's red lips were open in song and her black eyes were dancing as she looked upon Elizabeth's delighted surprise.

Elizabeth did not dare to look up, for it might break the reflection. She beamed, and her lover and her friend beamed in return.

"Oh, that you are here with me! Both of you! I have missed you so. You must stay, you must stay for dinner at least! George, my love, my heart, do you see your boy, paddling there in the distance with the girls? Anne, we could have your little Eliza to stay with us, the girls would love it – "

"Mama, look, George is paddling!"

Elizabeth looked up and smiled at her daughters, nodding her head. Then she looked to her side, and came to realise what she had secretly known all along.

It was not real after all. It was just a reflection. And the song was just an echo.


	79. Say Yes

**A/N: Hey! So I thought that because it took me so long to update before, I'd make up for it by doing two really quick updates! Plus I didn't get any reviews for the last one, which made me very sad Please review! Set in the year before George and Elizabeth get together.**

_It's so simple and you know it is  
You know it is, yeah  
We can't be to and fro like this  
All our lives  
You're the only way to me  
The path is clear  
What do I have to say to you  
For God's sake, dear..._

_Just say yes, 'cause I'm aching and I know you are too  
For the touch of your warm skin  
As I breathe you in – Just Say Yes, Snow Patrol._

"It puzzles me...how the King still looks at the Queen as though it were only yesterday that they married. I wonder...how is it that he still finds her so beautiful, when she has aged so these past years?"

George was leaning across the spindly-legged table towards Elizabeth. The playing cards were spread out in a fan across the top of the table, entirely forgotten, as the two of them conversed in low voices, comfortable with each other as always. Elizabeth was wearing a bright butter-yellow gown and was resting on the table, allowing George to see the delectable curves of her breasts. Her eyes were twinkling.

"Because he loves her, of course!" she laughed, in a soft ringing tone like tinkling bells, and George smiled.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, amused.

"Because true love lasts a lifetime" Elizabeth replied wistfully. George chuckled.

"And what do you know of love?" he was leaning closer now, intrigued to hear her answer. He knew, and he knew that she did too, that this situation could not last much longer between them. Either she would have to let him have her and diffuse the sexual tension between them, or...but it was more than that. There had been a time, in the first hurdles of their new relationship that he would have been content just to sleep with her and have it over with. But he wanted much more than that now. He wanted to marry her. He desired her unbearably, but he did love her too, and he wanted to marry her.

"I know enough" she replied, cooling a little at what she presumed to be his ignorance of the severity of her emotions, "I know what it feels like to love someone so much that it almost makes you sorry, and I know what it feels like to be in love so deeply that it feels as though you might be drowning. That's enough, I think"

George sighed frustratedly. She was obviously talking of him, and he felt the same, but he knew that if he now tried to kiss her she would turn her coquettes head away and simper prettily and tell him that he mustn't take such liberties. But, much to his surprise, he then felt her foot, small and delicate in the silk slipper, effortlessly sliding its way up and down his leg, slowly, suggestively. She was looking him right in the eye, and she was smiling. She knew full well that he knew what she was doing. Much to his horror, George felt himself blushing.

All the while, she remained impassively pale, smiling stunningly. She leaned closer to him again and covered his hands with her own. He stared down at their hands in startled delight. She laughed, low and throaty.

"Elizabeth..."

"What? You want me to leave you alone?" her eyebrows were raised, "I know you don't. Come on, George. This is difficult for both of us. Yes, I enjoy playing the coquette with you, and I know you enjoy the innuendo between us. But I wish...well, I think that one of us should just grow up and say what we think. We're not innocent children in the gardens of Hever anymore"

George grinned and rose fluidly from his seat. She did likewise and for a few moments they stood looking at each other, smiling. He made a sudden movement towards her and put his hands either side of her hips. She looked sternly at him, but he did not move away.

"Why don't I escort you back to your room?" he offered slowly, still grinning. She grinned back.

"Why walk all that way? I'll stay here with you instead"


	80. Baby, it's Cold Outside

**A/N: Hey, it's Greenfield here! I apologise in advance, I'm feeling very festive. And I'm cold. Another George and Elizabeth, set in 1522, before they got together and just decided to flirt like maniacs! Please review! Song is 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'**.

Elizabeth put down her goblet of wine and looked up at the gilded clock that sat on the oaken cabinet in George's room. It was most improper for her to be with him, alone, in his rooms, but she was so desperate for him to confess to his feelings that she quite honestly had given up caring. But then, when had she and George ever been bothered about propriety. She folded her hand of cards and threw him a glowing smile.

"_I really can't stay_" she said regretfully, rising from her seat. She looked out of the small window wearily. She would have to go outside and walk across the courtyard to get to the part of the palace that she and Elena were inhabiting, and there was a thick blanket of snow in the ground – plus, the air was like ice. She shivered at the thought.

"_But baby it's cold outside_" George responded incredulously, sensing that she didn't want to leave. He didn't want her to leave, either. He'd been enjoying himself, revelling in her delightful company, and she knew it.

"_I've got to go away_" she said, a little doubtfully. A fresh few flakes of snow had been to tumble from the dark sky. And it was terribly late. She drew her cloak around her and hugged herself with her slender arms.

"_Baby it's cold outside_" George repeated, rising from his seat.

"_This evening has been_ – "she began, before being cut off by a now rather panicked looking George. She mustn't leave; he'd had plans for tonight!

"_Been hoping that you'd drop in_" he confessed in a slight rush.

_"- So very nice_" she continued, a little smug smile on her lips.

"_I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice!" _he cried, clasping her small, delicate hands between his, strong and warm. She shivered, this time not from cold.

"_My mother will start to worry_" she replied fearfully, thinking of the scolding she would receive if her mother ever found out that she had spent hours alone in a man's bedchamber.

"_Beautiful, what's your hurry?"_ George asked innocently, still rubbing her chilled hands.

_"My father will be pacing the floor"_ she added, already picturing her father marching purposefully up and down, glaring at her when he found out. If he found out.

"_Listen to the fireplace roar_" George pointed out encouragingly. The fire was deliciously warm and let off a pungent perfume that both smelt delicious and made Elizabeth feel a little reckless. The crackle was comforting and soft in the background of their speech.

"_So really I'd better scurry_" her voice had a little less conviction every time she opened her mouth.

"_Beautiful, please don't hurry_" Great, he was reduced to begging now. He hadn't meant to do that.

"_Well maybe just a half a drink more_" she relented, looking longingly at the flagon of hot spiced wine, quite a lot of which was remaining.

"_Put some music on while I pour_?" George offered, wondering if there would be any musicians around with a lute at this time of night. She shook her head, those fiery red curls swinging desirably.

"_The neighbours might think_" she continued worriedly, thinking of the Parker girl who slept in a room very close to her and Elena. She was bound to catch Elizabeth sneaking back at this late hour, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out who she had been with.

"_Baby, it's bad out there_" to George's relief, he was telling the truth; the snow was getting heavier.

"_Say, what's in this drink_?" Elizabeth asked, eyes watering slightly with the extra spices George had just added to the wine that was now warming her body from head to toe.

"_No cabs to be had out there_" George added, knowing that no-one would be willing to drive a carriage across the courtyard in this weather and at this hour, not even to keep a pretty lady from getting snowed under.

"_I wish I knew how_ – " she murmured softly, before being cut off again.

"_Your eyes are like starlight_" George blurted out, looking into her sparkling blue eyes. She laughed, a light tinkle of a laugh, and continued softly.

"-_To break the spell_"

"_I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell_" George offered, and, being much more forward, leaned over and removed her coif, letting the curls of hair that had been slowly spilling out over the past few hours completely free. Elizabeth blushed at his audacity and pulled uselessly at her hair, but he had put the coif to one side, grinning amiably.

"_I ought to say no, no, no, sir"_ Elizabeth sighed weakly, wagging a finger at him. George laughed aloud, gaining a little boldness.

"_Mind if I move in closer_?" he asked gently, and took a step closer to her. They were rather close now; she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"_At least I'm gonna say that I tried –_"she said feebly.

"_What's the sense in hurting my pride_?" George shrugged, eyes twinkling merrily at her.

"_I really can't stay"_ she whined, dithering still.

"_Baby don't hold out"_ George murmured, reaching out to take her hand again and massaging her smooth palm, eliciting another blush from her.

"_Ah, but it's cold outside_" she frowned, watching frost creep up the window. Then,

"_I simply must go_" she decided, squaring her shoulders and taking a step back from him. He retaliated by taking a step closer.

"_Baby, it's cold outside_" George repeated his mantra with feeling, and reached out to put his hands either side of her waist. She looked at him sternly.

"_The answer is __**no**_" she said firmly, removing his hands with a teasing smile.

"_Ooh darling, it's cold outside"_ he cautioned again, slightly abashed that she had brushed him off. But he could see the desire in her eyes. If he could only persuade her to stay a while longer...

"_This welcome has been_ – "

"_I'm lucky that you dropped in_" he intervened sincerely.

"_-So nice and warm"_ she continued sharply.

"_Look out the window at that storm!"_ he cried, pointing to the angry, swirling snowflakes.

"_My sister will be suspicious_" she dithered, thinking of Elena, who would be surely waiting up.

"_Man, your lips look delicious_" George breathed, eyes fixed on the plump red lips that he upper teeth were tugging on thoughtfully.

"_My brother will be there at the door"_ she continued, ignoring him, thinking of Thomas Wyatt, who might be worried if Elena told him that she still hadn't returned. They were very close, she and Tom.

"_Waves upon a tropical shore_" George continued musingly, thinking of the blissful existence that they could share. His eyes were still focused on her pretty mouth.

"_My maiden aunt's mind is vicious_" Elizabeth fretted, thinking of Elena's crabby mother, a widow who was the epitome of propriety. George moved suddenly forward and pressed a hasty but firm kiss on her lips. She gasped.

"_Gosh, your lips are delicious_" he said, looking dazed. She hesitated for a very long time, knowing that she should scold him for taking liberties and sweep out of the room. But she couldn't do that! She wanted him to kiss her.

"_Well maybe just a half a drink more" _she mumbled eventually. George grinned.

"_Never such a blizzard before_" he pronounced cheerfully. Maybe she was giving him the wrong idea. She didn't want to see loose.

"_I've got to go home!"_ she cried, picking up her coif and making to turn away. He grasped her arm.

"_Oh, baby, you'll freeze out there_!" he protested pathetically.

"_Say, lend me your coat"_ she suggested, gesturing to his handsome blue cloak, draped over the back of his chair.

"_It's up to your knees out there_" he pointed out, meaning that the cloak would not help to protect the bottom half of her beautiful green gown, which would surely be ruined entirely with snow stains if she dared to step out.

"_You've really been grand_" she tried to sound polite, but all she could think about was how much she wanted to stay. He let go of her arm and, once again, she made to leave, but this time he caught her hand instead. A bolt of fire flashed through both of them.

"_I thrill when you touch my hand_" he admitted softly.

"_But don't you see –_ " she started, shocked.

"_How can you do this thing to me?"_ he cut in pleadingly. Conflict shone in her blue eyes.

"_There's bound to be talk tomorrow_" she worried. What would people see if they saw her sneaking back across the courtyard in the early morning, with her hair loose and coming from the men's quarters, in last night's dress?

"_Think of my life long sorrow_" George looked at her with puppy-dog eyes. She laughed.

"_At least there will be plenty implied_" she comforted him jokily.

" _If you caught pneumonia and died_" he retorted, eyes boring into hers.

"_I really can't stay"_ Elizabeth said, but this time, she knew that she would.

"_Get over that hold out_" he murmured, his hands encircling her waist. This time, she did not push him away. They smiled at each other.

"_Ah, but it's cold outside_" she concurred quietely.

And there were no more words.


	81. Yellow

**A/N: Hey, it's GreenField here. Sorry, all I seem to be able to write for this at the moment is George and Elizabeth! Hope you don't mind. Song is Yellow by Coldplay. Please review! Flashbacks in italics.**

_**Look at the stars  
Look how they shine for you  
And everything you do  
Yeah they were all yellow**_

"I don't like seeing you cry" George said gently, putting his arm around his lover. She rested her head on his shoulder and did not make a reply. She had been silent and tearful for well over a fortnight now, since she miscarried of their child, and he was genuinely worried about her. Of course, he had been greatly upset by the horrendous accident that had caused their unborn child to depart this life, but he took comfort in the fact that Elizabeth herself was well and healthy, and so were their two beautiful daughters. Elizabeth, however, did not take this view.

"Come on" he urged, rising from his seat on the edge of her bed and taking her hand. She stayed stubbornly still.

"I'm not in the mood, George" she mumbled at last, her voice void of all emotion. George tugged her hand a little harder and, after giving him a fierce glare, she allowed him to draw her towards the window, where they sat together. Stars hung glittering on the black cloak of night, only a few wisps of grey cloud ruining this otherwise perfect view. George put his arm around Elizabeth and pointed at the sparkling pattern in the sky.

"Look at the stars" he murmured, "They're shining for you, you know. To give you comfort and guidance"

"Don't be stupid" Elizabeth huffed, but her eyes were fixed on the stars he spoke of, "Why would they shine for me?"

George smiled to himself.

"They are! They're shining because of all the wonderful, beautiful, brilliant things that you do. They want you to be that person again. They want you to smile again"

"You are a dolt" she retorted, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Me?" George cried in protest, and laughed, "You're a dolt if you don't believe what I'm telling you" he paused, "You know what else those stars represent?"

"Go on" she rolled her eyes, but she was quite clearly enchanted.

"All the good times that we've had together. You look how many stars there are. Those good times far outweigh the bad"

"Like what?" she was smiling now, obviously keen to see what he remembered.

"Like the time I wrote the song about you. For you"

_**I came along  
I wrote a song for you  
And all the things you do  
And it was called yellow**_

_Elizabeth was fourteen years old, seated in the nursery at Hever. George was there for the Summer, a rare occurrence, and while she had been writing letters to Anne and Mary, George had been scribbling something else in a corner, strumming on his lute every so often. Their eyes connected across the room every so often, and Elizabeth was smiling to herself. She was sure that he was falling in love with you._

"_Do you want to hear a tune, Elizabeth?" George asked eventually, "I believe it will be popular at court"_

"_Go on" Elizabeth agreed archly, swinging round in her chair to face him and resting her head on her hands. He was shuffling self-consciously as he sat before her. His eyes fixed on her as he sang in his handsome, melodic voice._

"_The yellow sun, it shines upon, the ground where you do lay...and in the night, the stars they bloom, beneath the moonbeam ray...and in your eyes, the waves they roll, a dance upon the sea...and when these eyes, these tender eyes, look upon my own...I wonder why, I long to know, when will you love me?"_

Elizabeth grinned, "Yes, I do recall. It was a lovely song"

"It was terrible" George countered, pleased that he had made her smile. Her gaze grew distant as she looked once again at the stars.

"What else?"

George mused for a moment, "Hm. The night I realised that I loved you"

_**So then I took my turn  
Oh what a thing to have done  
And it was all yellow**_

_**Your skin**_  
_**Oh yeah your skin and bones**_  
_**Turn into something beautiful**_  
_**You know you know I love you so**_  
_**You know I love you so**_

_Elizabeth kissed Mary's cheek for what felt like the millionth time, "I am so glad to see you home at last! Isn't it wonderful, George?"_

"_Wonderful" George agreed. His eyes were fixed not on his sister, but on Elizabeth, who was dressed stunningly that evening. There was a small gathering at Hever castle to celebrate Mary's betrothal now she was returned from France, and Elizabeth had obviously dressed to impress. She was wearing a bright yellow gown, and little jewels glittered in her lobes and around her neck. She wore a string of yellow topaz stones around the top of her head, which looked beautiful with her red hair._

_Mary was asked to dance by William, and as George made to ask Elizabeth to dance, she shook her head._

"_No. I know you're about to ask me to dance, and I don't want to. Let's go outside. It's ever so hot in here" she took his hand and led him out into the gardens. It was Winter, and outside it was terribly cool, but Elizabeth was still fanning herself. She turned to look at George with an inquiring smile._

"_Come on" she said and, with an irresistible giggle, pulled him towards the water fountain, and dived in._

"_Elizabeth!" George cried, horrified, "Your lovely gown! And you'll catch a chill"_

"_You sound like Semmonet" she laughed, poking back up from under the water and shaking her head. Droplets of the cool water splashed George's doublet. He looked at her, exasperated._

"_We'll never be able to go back inside now" he scolded. She grinned, standing up in the water. He froze, staring at her._

"_Do you care?" she asked, dripping water. In that moment, George thought that he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. _

_Elizabeth's hair was dark with the wet, plastered to her face, showing off the pretty roundness of her face. She was smiling, eyes dancing, and her topaz headdress had slipped over one eyes. She took it off and flung it at him, but he was struck dumb by the sight of her and didn't have the wit to catch it. The yellow jewels glinted on the grass and her yellow gown clung to every inch of her body. All of her skin and bone was completely visible, and she knew it._

"I didn't know! I wasn't being deliberately provocative!" Elizabeth protested, half-laughing. George raised his eyebrows.

"Yes you were. And I fell in love with you right then and there"

"Oh" she sighed and leaned against his shoulder, "One more?"

"Fine" he agreed reluctantly, "When I saved you from drowning?"

"I was not drowning!"

"You certainly weren't swimming"

_**I swam across  
I jumped across for you  
Oh what a thing to do**_

_**Cause you were all yellow**_  
_**I drew a line**_  
_**I drew a line for you**_  
_**Oh what a thing to do**_  
_**And it was all yellow**_

_She hadn't meant to get that close to the lake. She knew it was deep, she'd just wanted to look. The way the yellow sun danced across the water had looked so appealing; pity it had rained and the bank was muddy. She skidded into the icy water before she had time to stop herself. Legs flailing as she struggled to the ledge, she felt strands of seaweed tangle around her. She screamed._

_And then George appeared, her knight in shining armour. _

"_Elizabeth!" he cried, "Can you get out?"_

"_Would I be screaming if I could get out?" she roared back. George had a momentary urge to laugh before he jumped in the water and swam swiftly and strongly towards her from the other side of the lake, dislodging seaweed as he went. He came to her easily, and she was laughing tearfully by this point._

"_I bet you think I'm a right idiot, getting so upset by some water" he had his arms around her waist, kicking his legs to keep them afloat. They were ridiculously close. _

"_I don't" he mumbled in reply. Her lips were mere inches away as she whispered;_

"_Thank you"._

_**Your skin  
Oh yeah your skin and bones  
Turn into something beautiful  
And you know  
For you I'd bleed myself dry  
For you I'd bleed myself dry**_

Elizabeth turned and kissed him, and he could no longer see any trace of tears.

"Thank you" she whispered, just as she had done so long ago, "I think you just saved me from drowning again"

"I love you so much" he murmured, looking at her closely, her beautiful body illuminated in the yellow starlight. Their lips touched again in a burst of stars.

"I love you too" she replied.

_**It's true  
Look how they shine for you  
Look how they shine for you  
Look how they shine for  
Look how they shine for you  
Look how they shine for you  
Look how they shine**_

_**Look at the stars  
Look how they shine for you  
And all the things that you do**_


	82. Dance

**A/N: I know I haven't done one of these for a while, so sorry! Thanks for the reviews and please leave some more! Set during Elizabeth and George's flirting year.**

_I feel the music moving through your body, _

_Looking at you I can tell you want me, _

_Don't stop keep going till the morning light, yeah.  
When I saw you there, _

_Sitting all alone in the dark acting like you didn't have a care,_

_I knew right then, that you'd be mine, and we'd be dancing the whole damn night right, _

_Ooh, oh baby, I just want you to dance with me tonight, _

_So come on, ooh, oh baby, _

_I just want you to dance with me tonight._ – _Dance with me tonight, Olly Murs._

George could see her from across the room. He was dancing with Mary, who was smiling over at her husband over his shoulder, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Elizabeth.

She'd been dancing rather actively all night, and was now taking a break. She sat alone, in shadow, tapping her feet and swaying along with the cheery music of the Galliard. She looked beautiful, with her hair loose, pink gown spread in a fan across her legs. He could see the tips of her silk slippers. She looked dreamy, in a world of her own, and he longed to go over to talk to her.

The Galliard finished, and George and Mary bowed and curtsied to one another with a smile. Mary dashed over to William, and George made his way over to Elizabeth. She jerked from her dream when she saw him, and smiled her glittering smile.

"Good evening, Master George" she said cheerfully, "You and Mary dance very well together"

"Thank you. And you, Mistress Elizabeth, dance beautifully no matter whom you are partnered with. Much like the sun, you shed your light on all who are near to you"

Elizabeth smiled a little wider, eyes glittering, "Thank you" she paused, listening to the sound of the violin as a new piece of music began, "Ah, a Volte"

"Do you dance the Volte, Mistress Elizabeth?" he inquired, selfishly thinking about how much he would get to touch her if she did, indeed, dance the dance. Elizabeth cocked her head and looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

"Is that an offer, Master George?"

"I do believe it is" George held out his hand with a smile in return. Elizabeth took it, and as she moved towards the centre of the floor with George, his eyes fixed on her swaying hips.

Previously, they had shared only the simplest of dances; Elizabeth had not yet had the chance to show off her talents. But the Volte was very complex, and she danced it more wonderfully than he could ever have imagined. She twirled and leapt and tapped her feet in perfect time with him, and when he had to grab her and lift her into the air, her eyes burned into his. When her body pressed against his on her slow descent, they were both hot and breathing heavily.

"You dance like a goddess" George breathed, as a second Volte was called for and they continued to dance, giddy and filled with desire, "I could dance with you forever"

"You could dance with me all night if you so wished" Elizabeth responded in a whisper, curving her body to fit his as the dance dictated, "If we danced all night, I'm sure I would get to show you a good few more of my...skills"

"And you would be willing to dance the night away?" George asked, hand sliding furtively from her waist to her breast. The way she looked at him made him think that she might push his hand off and turn haughtily away, but she did not; her eyes only burned into his with more fire, and she smiled again.

"I'd be willing to do whatever you asked of me" she replied sweetly, twirling away and leaving him to follow hurriedly on behind. 


	83. Safe and Sound

**A/N: Hi! So this is a songfic set to the song Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift (featuring the Civil Wars) which will, coincidentally, be the theme song of the film adaptation of one of my favourite series (The Hunger Games!). It's set a day or so before George's execution, when Elizabeth goes to visit him in the Tower. By the way, this is sort of set as though she's planning to kill herself once he is dead. Just so you don't get confused! Please review.**

_I remember tears streaming down your face  
When I said, "I'll never let you go"  
When all those shadows almost killed your light  
I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone"  
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight_

"I'm scared, Elizabeth" George looked at me from his seat, a rickety wooden chair placed in front of the tiny window, through which came the distant sounds of hammering on Tower Hill and a gloomy grey light.

"Don't you dare be scared" I said fiercely, "I'm here for you now, aren't I? I'll be here all night. I won't leave you"

He looked at me with a terror in his eyes that I had never seen before, "I don't want to die" he whispered.

I gulped back my own tears at those words and moved closer, kneeling on the floor in front of him and reaching up to cup his face in my hands, "I know. God, my love, I know. I don't want you to die, either"

"I'm sorry. Am I scaring you?"

"No. You mustn't apologise" I had to strain my eyes to see him properly in the misty darkness, "You're the only spot of light in my life, George, you always have been. Don't let this place kill that. Please"

He nodded, seeming to compose himself, looking deep into my eyes, "I don't know how to leave you"

"I'll never let you go" I replied softly, "Never. You won't have to leave me"

It was a measure of how scared he was that he knew I was planning to die with him and yet did not attempt to stop me. He knew that had the situations been reversed, he could not have lived without me, and he accepted that as the truth.

"Let us just live for tonight" I whispered, "Let us share everything we have ever felt for one another tonight"

_Just close your eyes  
The sun is going down  
You'll be alright  
No one can hurt you now  
Come morning light  
You and I'll be safe and sound_

He nodded, "Yes. Yes, you're right, Bess, you always are. We're safe, for now"

"If course we are" I agreed, "Safe and sound"

"Though sometimes it's hard to feel sound in this place"

I shivered, "Yes. I had noticed"

_Don't you dare look out your window darling_  
_Everything's on fire_  
_The war outside our door keeps raging on_  
_Hold onto this lullaby_  
_Even when the music's gone_  
_Gone_

George's eyes darted towards the small window, as if he expected to be able to see the scaffold that we could hear being built. I turned his face away.

"Don't look out there. Do not look for our death. Look at me"

His face softened, fear lessening as his eyes connected with mine, "I love you"

"I love you, too" I whispered, and kissed him. I slipped onto his lap and he held me there as he had done so many times before. I knew he loved me. I could never doubt that he loved me, and that was why I had to follow him into death. We were not made to be apart.

He broke away from me and rested his forehead against my own, "I've been holding on to my memories of you. Of us, and everything we've been through. It keeps me sane"

Elizabeth laughed quietely, bitterly, "It keeps me sane, too"

"You'll be here with me all night?"

"Yes. All night. Now come to bed. I think you should get some sleep"

"I don't want to sleep, Bess, I want to be _with_ you"

"Just close your eyes" Elizabeth whispered, kissing his eyelids, "We have all eternity for that"

_Just close your eyes_  
_The sun is going down_  
_You'll be alright_  
_No one can hurt you now_  
_Come morning light_  
_You and I'll be safe and sound_

_Just close your eyes_  
_You'll be alright_  
_Come morning light,_  
_You and I'll be safe and sound..._


	84. River

**A/N: Hi! I haven't updated this for a while but I have some new inspiration from the amazing Carol Ann Duffy, so, here I go! Please review and thank you so much for reading.**

_Down by the river, under the trees, love waits for me_

_To walk from the journeying years of my time and arrive._

_I part the leaves and they toss me a blessing of rain._

_The river stirs and turns, consoling and fondling itself_

_With watery hands, its clear limbs parting and closing._

_Grey as a secret, the heron bows its head on the bank._

_I drop my past on the grass and open my arms, which ache_

_As though they held up this heavy sky, or had pressed_

_Against window glass all night as my eyes sieved the stars;_

_Open my mouth, wordless at last meeting love at last, dry_

_From travelling so long, shy of a prayer. You step from the shade,_

_And I feel love come to my arms and cover my mouth, feel_

_My soul swoop and ease itself into my skin, like a bird_

_Threading a river. Then I can look love full in the face, see_

_Who you are I have come this far to find, the love of my life – River, Carol Ann Duffy._

Even as I dismount my horse and make my way towards the emerald trees, sprinkled all over with rain, the note crumpled up in my fist, I know who I am meeting.

Jane had made it harder for George and I to be alone together now that she knew of our affair. Even seeing us in public, dancing in the great hall, her suspicious glances and her stares at other observers, as if to say to them ; 'look, look, can you not see it, the love in their eyes?', made us anxious. The note had arrived that morning while I was in my chamber, asking me to ride to the nearby forest. I knew the handwriting, though the note was not signed. I had smiled, appreciating that George was trying to add an air of mystery to the upcoming encounter.

Smoothing out my rich burgundy riding habit, I part the leaves surrounding me, letting them trickle icy water onto my hands and the fabric of my habit. When I reach the river that flows through the clearing, I stop, smiling down at the bubbling, clear water. He is not here yet, and while I wait, tying my mare to a tree trunk, I fling myself down onto the grass, dotted with daisies, suddenly feeling freer than ever before. I hate the restrictions of court, and now I am free. The strands of grass tickle my cheeks, daisies threading themselves through my hair.

I hear footsteps and prop myself up on my elbows, squinting into the trees. George emerges, shaking rainwater from his dark hair. I smile, glowing at the sight of him, and open my mouth to speak; as I do, George moves towards my open arms and holds me, pressing a kiss to my lips. As always, at his touch I feel light and unspeakably happy, as though the rest of the world doesn't matter and never will again. I draw back from him and smile into his eyes, dark and glowing with warmth and love.

As always, when I look into his eyes, I know that I am loved.


	85. Fighting

**A/N: Hi! Sorry it's been a while, but I suddenly got the urge to write a nice argument between George and Elizabeth...possibly because that's what's happening in the novel at the moment. So let me know what you think! Thanks!**

_My black eye casts no shadow  
your red eye sees no pain  
your slaps don't stick  
your kicks don't hit  
so we remain the same  
blood sticks and  
sweat drips  
break the lock if it don't fit  
a kick in the teeth is good for some  
a kiss with a fist is better than none  
a-woah a kiss with a fist is better than none – Kiss with a Fist, Florence + the Machine_

"Wait. Wait just a minute" Elizabeth whirled around to face her lover, clearly seething, "You _told_ him? Him too?"

George squirmed a little, wishing he had kept his mouth shut, "Well, yes. I didn't see any problem with – "

"Oh, like you never saw any problem with telling Francis Weston? Look what happened there! And like you never saw any problem with telling Tom Wyatt? God's blood, George, if you carry on telling people about us at this rate we may as well tell your wife and my husband and the King himself and have done with it!"

"See here, Elizabeth" George's anger was rising with hers – she always had to turn everything into a dramatic masquerade! – "Harry merely said that you looked beautiful in that dress, and your husband was a lucky man. I didn't want him looking on you too fondly, not with Francis still leering over you, and I was also proud of you and how lovely you are, that's all!"

"That is absolutely no reason to tell him that you and I are having an affair! Though I'm sure you didn't put it that nicely, oh no. I think you were boasting, when he told you I looked beautiful. I think you decided to use that as a prompt to brag about how you were fucking me, and tell him all the things we do – "

"This is starting to grow slightly reminiscent of the argument we had about me telling Tom"

"Then you ought to have known better, and we shall just keep having this argument until you stop telling the world our secrets!" Elizabeth was undressing as she spoke, and George saw it as a measure of how angry she was that she was choosing to disrobe behind a screen rather than before him, as she usually would have.

"And anyhow, I don't say things like that, not when I talk about you"

"Oh? Not when you talk about _me_, yes? Then who else are you fucking that you can talk about like that?" she emerged from behind the screen in her nightwear, not nude as he had hoped, and glowering at him.

"You know that that isn't what I meant! I would never go near anyone else. And would you _please_ stop using that word!" George cried, beginning to get a headache. Elizabeth, however, did not seem inclined to relent.

"No! George, I don't see why this is so difficult for you to understand! Those men are going to look at me whenever they see me, and they are going to have an image in their heads of all the things I do to you, with you, and they will smirk to themselves and maybe make inappropriate comments and suggestions and they will never take a word that I say seriously" she paused, chest heaving, "Not that any of the men at this court take anything I say seriously anyway, because I am a woman. But now, now they will laugh in my face. Do you know how something like that feels?"

"I – "

"Of course you don't, you're a man. You don't know a thing about the way we women have to live in this world. Not a thing" she closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again he saw that she looked completely drained, "Just go, please, George. Go"

"I didn't know how important it was to you –"

"Yes, you did. Now go, please"

"I am tired of us fighting all the time" George said at last in a low voice, "I don't _like _arguing with you"

"I'm tired too. And I don't like arguing with you, either. But it's hard not to, when things like this happen" she had turned away from him. George looked forlornly at her from the doorway, all anger gone at the sound of the sadness in her voice.

"Do you remember the vow we made? When I gave you the ruby ring and you gave me the emerald one?"

"George, really, I just want to go to sleep. We can talk about all of...this, tomorrow"

"I made a vow to you that I would protect you from harm. And I meant it. By telling Harry and Tom and Francis, I was marking you as mine. I was keeping you safe in case they decided that they felt something for you. I protect you because I love you and you are a woman in a man's world. I do these things for you"

Elizabeth turned back to him, hands on hips, "And you think that is enough for me to forgive you?"

George stayed silent, said nothing. Elizabeth regarded him for some time. Then she flung back the sheets of the bed.

"Get in" she demanded grudgingly. George grinned and moved to shrug off his clothing, but she shook her head, wagged her finger at him.

"Oh, no, no. Just to sleep. You shan't get a thing out of me tonight"

"Tomorrow?" George asked hopefully, smile slipping a little. Elizabeth tilted her head to one side, considering.

"Maybe. Maybe tomorrow" she climbed into the bed and rolled onto her side, away from him, "Goodnight, George"

George rolled his eyes and settled down for the night, "Goodnight, Bess"


	86. Overheard

**A/N: Hi everybody (especially Laura :D)! Haven't had any reviews for a while so a couple would be great . Thanks for reading! The idea from this came from a fic of Trivial Queen's that I absolutely love, and the idea just made me giggle. Not that it takes much to do that!**

_Shine a light through an open door  
Love and life I will divide  
Turn away cause I need you more  
Feel the heartbeat in my mind  
Because the way I'm feeling I just can't deny  
But I gotta let it go  
_

_We found love in a hopeless place  
We found love in a hopeless place  
We found love in a hopeless place  
We found love in a hopeless place – We found love, Rihanna and Calvin Harris._

Thomas Clark had been at the court of Henry VIII for three weeks, and absolutely nothing had happened to him.

He was messenger to a King who did not know his name and whose moods were volatile. He hadn't met a single girl yet, even though he had hoped that a laundress or kitchen maid would consent to be his wife. Nothing happened to him, in fact, until an interesting Sunday afternoon when he was charged with delivering a message to George Boleyn, Lord Rochford.

He hesitated outside the door before opening it. Lord Rochford was not in his receiving chamber, which usually doubled as an office, but some voices could be heard coming from...wait, wasn't that Lord Rochford's bedchamber?

Thomas took a wary step closer to the door. He jumped at the sound of Lord Rochford's raised voice.

"Bess! _BESS!_"

A giggle, then a gasp, "Trust me, _my Lord_. You'll thank me later" the woman's voice was light, teasing, but with an unspoken caress.

"By God, Bess, where do you get these ide – " the question cut off with a groan.

Thomas shuffled uncomfortably, and knocked on the door. The groan was abruptly cut off.

"I'll go" said the woman, and after a few moments the door creaked open.

Thomas couldn't keep his jaw from dropping. She was stunning, red hair loose and long down her back, her blue eyes sparkling with some undisguised mirth. She wore a silken robe of rose pink, and it clung to her enough to make Thomas' eyes water. He could see everything. This beauty was certainly _not_ Lord Rochford's crow-faced wife.

"Good day" she said pleasantly, smiling prettily, "You have a message for my Lord Rochford?"

"I – I – yes. From the King, my...lady" he ducked a bow, unsure of her status, his cheeks crimson with embarrassment. Her smile widened to a grin, "I must give it to him. The King said it was urgent"

"Did he?" her grin grew, "Ah, but you see, Lord Rochford is...shall we say, _tied up_, at the present time. But I assure you, I will pass the message on"

Thomas continued to gawp. She had to prise the missive from his reluctant fingertips. Her robe slipped a little way down her shoulder and his eyes fixed on the revelation. She did not seem duly concerned.

"Good day" she repeated brightly, "I'm sure I shall see you again soon"

Before Thomas could reply, the door had shut with a click in his face. He was rooted to the spot, still stunned from the sight of her. The voices began again behind the door.

"Were you flirting with the messenger?" Lord Rochford demanded.

"Maybe a little. Jealous?" the woman called Bess replied, and Thomas could hear the smile in her voice.

"You know I am. Now come here and untie me, I'm going to have to read that message"

A tinkling laugh, "Certainly not! The message can wait"

"Elizabeth! The lad said it was urgent"

"And urgent it may be, but I can assure you that my need is a lot greater"

"If you don't untie me right now, I'll – "

"What will you do?" she laughed again, "I'm not untying you. Like I said, the message can wait. And as I pointed out to you earlier...you'll thank me later. I promise"

Thomas, still blushing, scooted out of the room so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. A laundress was walking along, and when she saw him almost fall, she smiled. Thomas fell into step beside her.

Well, Lord Rochford and his Bess had obviously found love in a place where love was hopeless, nigh on impossible.

Why couldn't he do the same?


	87. You're All I have

**A/N: So, I have a million other things that I should be doing right now, but I really wanted to right this – and I have some more motivation now that I know my awesome friend Laura who is doubtless reading this note likes the story! This is a George/Elizabeth songfic to You're All I Have by Snow Patrol. Set on 1st May 1536 – yet again. I love last-night stories.**

_Strain this chaos turn it into light  
I've got to see you one last night  
Before the lions take their share  
Leave us in pieces, scattered everywhere _

"George? George, where are you going? George!" Anne shrieked, clinging onto her brother's arm. Her eyes were wide with an unspoken fear, "Where are you going? You can't leave me here waiting like this"

George's face softened; he patted her cheek gently, "Go to sleep, Mademoiselle. In the morning everything will be better"

Anne couldn't resist a smile at the childhood nickname, "But why did he leave? Why did he just go without a word?"

"I don't know" George looked tired, sick and tired of everything that Anne's rise had bought with it, "In the morning we'll know. Aurora's going to stay with you, isn't she?"

Anne nodded, "Yes. Yes, you're right. Go, then" a smile for her younger brother, the smile she reserved for him alone, "But wait. Where _are_ you going?"

"To Elizabeth" George replied, turning back in the doorway, "Before everything goes to Hell, I need my Elizabeth"

_Just give me a chance to hold on  
Give me a chance to hold on  
Give me a chance to hold on  
Just give me something to hold onto_

_It's so clear now that you are all that I have_  
_I have no fear cos you are all that I have_  
_It's so clear now that you are all that I have_  
_I have no fear cos you are all that I have_

He was practically running to her room, because the voices in his head were starting to scare him; the voices that told him everything was going to end with the end of Henry's love for Anne, and there would be no way out of it.

_Elizabeth is the only thing you have when things get bad,_ the voice told him, _Your Elizabeth._

And he knew, all of a sudden, that the voice was right. Elizabeth was his world, and it was only when he was with her that he felt safe. Only when he was with her did he feel like the rest of the world didn't matter, because when they were alone he could laugh and sing to her and make her his own. Elizabeth was everything.

He ran faster.

_You're cinematic razor sharp_  
_A welcome arrow through the heart_  
_Under your skin feels like home_  
_Electric shocks on aching bones_

_Give me a chance to hold on_  
_Give me a chance to hold on_  
_Give me a chance to hold on_  
_Just give me something to hold onto_

She was waiting for him. He expected her to look worried, but of course, she didn't. She was hiding her worry for his sake, to make him stronger. She was good at doing that, when it really mattered. And that day – well, that day it mattered more than ever before.

"I've been waiting" she told him, smiling, "Are you alright?"

George wanted to tell her about the fear that was choking him, binding him, but when he looked in her beautiful blue eyes the fear suddenly left him. And a smile grew on his face, a smile that he had not expected nor one that she had anticipated. She moved towards him and took his hands.

"Tell me, tell me truthfully. Are you alright?" it was only then that he saw the anxiety in her eyes, hidden behind the glow of her loving smile.

There were no words to answer her, no words that could quite express how he felt. Instead, he pulled her to him, hard, and kissed her. He thought that she might, laughingly, push him away and get him to talk about what had happened at the joust that day, but she did not. She pulled him closer, twined her fingers through his hair.

And that was when he knew that she was as terrified as he was.

_It's so clear now that you are all that I have_  
_I have no fear cos you are all that I have_  
_It's so clear now that you are all that I have_  
_I have no fear cos you are all that I have_

_There is a darkness deep in you_  
_A frightening magic I cling to_

They lay in front of the fire, Elizabeth's fingertips still dancing through his hair, her eyes fixed on his face with a frightening earnestness.

"You always make me forget" he told her softly, "Every time something happens, something I don't want to think about, you make me forget. How do you do it?"

She laughed, a slow, lazy laugh, and stretched somewhat distractingly, throwing a pretty silhouette against the open orange flames, "I don't know. Maybe it's magic"

He laughed too, and kissed her again, "Somehow I don't think I'm going to be able to brush it off and forget about it this time"

The smile fell from her face; teeth caught at her lip, "I don't think you are either"

"Don't say that" he urged, the fear beginning to rise again, "If you're scared then I get scared. Let me pretend, just for a little longer, that all of this is going to go away"

Elizabeth's eyes burned for a moment, as if she was angry with the fact that anything could be allowed to scare him. She'd kill off the whole world to keep him safe, if she had to. They both knew it.

"Okay" she said slowly, "You're all I have. If it takes forgetting to keep you safe and sane, then I'll make you forget. I'll help you"

She pressed her lips to his one more time.

_Give me a chance to hold on  
Give me a chance to hold on  
Give me a chance to hold on  
Just give me something to hold onto_

_It's so clear now that you are all that I have_  
_I have no fear now you are all that I have_  
_It's so clear now that you are all that I have_  
_I have no fear now you are all that I have_


	88. Grass Ring

**A/N: Hi! Found a great poem by Carol Ann Duffy that (as usual) inspired me to write some fluffy childhood George/Elizabeth. Please review! (AND HI LAURA! I'm totally going to do that all the time now). Elizabeth's POV, with flashback.**

"_I wake to a dark hour out of time, go to the window._

_No stars in this black sky, no moon to speak of, no name_

_Or number to the hour, no skelf of light. I let in air._

_The garden's sudden scent's an open grave._

_What do I have._

_To help me, without spell or prayer,_

_Endure this hour, endless, heartless, anonymous,_

_The death of love? Only the other hours – _

_The air made famous where you stood, _

_The grand hotel, flushing with light, which blazed us_

_On the night,_

_The hour it took for you_

_To make a ring of grass and marry me" – Over, Carol Ann Duffy (almost the whole poem, but not quite!)._

I came to Hever for the children.

At least, that's what I tell myself as I stand there in the middle of a field brimming with dew, stars sparkling overhead, embracing the night. I can smell the floral smell of my childhood, hear the rush of the grass in the breeze. How odd it seems that nothing here has changed, even though the castle's heir and it's main attraction are dead and gone.

My son is two years old. Alice and Margaret wanted to show him Hever, show him where they grew up and where they played. I agreed, with reluctance. Alice knew it would be painful for all of us, she said so when she asked, but her eyes were so eager and Meg's face bright with hope...I just couldn't say no.

They've taken George down to the lake, showing him how to throw stones, even though it's dark. But we can't stay here for more than a day and a night, so I let them stay awake. I remember the game. George taught it to Anne, Mary, Aurora and me when we were children, then he taught it to our children and his niece and nephew a few years ago. You score a point if you can manage to throw a stone so it lands on a lily pad and sinks it. I was terrible at it, as is Alice, but George was excellent and so is Margaret. I suppose that's why he made up the game, because he knew he'd be good at it.

I keep walking, the hem of my skirt growing damp, breathing in the air of my home. I wish we could stay here forever, but it isn't ours anymore. We only got to come here now because the servants have fled and the castle has not yet passed into someone else's hands. The only person who would be cruel and insensitive enough to throw us off this land is Thomas Cromwell, and I've no problem at all with sending him away with a flea in his ear. He won't get rid of me that easily, not this time.

It's when I reach the rose garden that things get painful. Because this rose garden contain some of my best memories. One of them rushes into my head without warning, as they so often do, and I'm looking back –

"_Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" George Boleyn, eight years old and already handsome, comes dashing after me with pleading in his voice. I'm crying, running away from him, holding the ruined skirt of my new gown in front of me. It's my first proper adult's gown, and George thought it would be funny to push me in the lake while wearing it, not realising that the water is thick and muddy despite appearances. The green damask is ruined, and not only is this the end of my first adult's gown, my mother and father will murder me. I'll be in so much trouble._

_He reaches me, he is faster than I am, and grabs my arm, "I'm sorry, Bess, I really am. I thought it would just get wet!"_

"_Simonette told me not to wear it when we're playing" I snivel, staring in horror at the ruined dress, "But I wanted you to see it!"_

"_You look very pretty in it" says George warily, trying to placate me. He squeezes my hand, "If you give it to Simonette now she might be able to scrub it out"_

"_It's too late for that" I wail, "Mother will beat me, and Father won't let me have any more new gowns – "_

"_Wait, Bess, don't cry. Here. I've got a present for you. I made it yesterday" he fishes inside his doublet, and produces a small circle of grass. It looks like a ring, the two ends of the blades stuck together with early morning dew. I wipe my nose on my sleeve, as children will, and reach out to take it from him. He jerks it away, grinning._

"_No, you can't do that! I have to put it on your finger for you"_

"_Why, George?" I'm whining, because I've already had a bad day and I'm not in the mood for George to mess around. _

"_If I put it on the right finger then it means we're married"_

_My tears dry almost instantly and I sit up a little straighter. I smile, bright and pretty and girlish._

"_Really, George?" voice full of wonder. He takes my hand and puts it on my ring finger. I gasp._

"_Oh, George – "_

"Mama? Mama?" Margaret brings me out of the dream, and she's snivelling. I go to her at once and crouch down before her.

"Meggie, darling, what's – Oh goodness, you're soaked through!"

And there it is, all over again. The green damask gown that I wore when I was Meggie's age, that George ruined but Simonette managed to clean for me. It's out of fashion now but we're not as rich as we used to be, so Margaret and Alice are getting my old cast-offs. I kept that gown because it reminded me of George and the day he pledged himself to me with a grass ring, a gown that now belongs to my daughter. She looks lovely in it, too.

"I'm sorry, Mama, I know it's your dress, but it's all George's fault, he tried to push me -"

"Meggie, he's two years old"

Her face flushes crimson, "Fine. I fell. But I didn't mean to, Mama, I'm so sorry – "

"Don't you worry, sweetheart" I pull her to me and hug her despite the wetness of the dress, "We can fix it. I've fixed it before"


	89. Caught Out

**A/N: Hi! I haven't had any reviews for ages, so I really would appreciate some. This is an AU sort of chapter where Elizabeth's husband Phillip makes a surprising discovery about his wife's private life...this would never have happened, because in my story George and Elizabeth are always extremely careful about not getting caught, but I was inspired by this brilliant Thomas Hardy poem...please review! And hi Laura :D**

_And then they saw me. Swift her gaze was set_

_With eye and cry of love illimited_

_Upon her Heart-King. Never upon me_

_Had she thrown a look of love so thoroughsped!_

_At once she flung her faint form shieldingly_

_On his, against the vengeance of my vows;_

_The which o'erruling, her shape shielded he._

_Blanked by such love, I stood as in a drowse,_

_And the slow moon edged from the upland nigh,_

_My sad thoughts moving thuswise: "I may house_

_And I may husband her, yet what am I_

_But licensed tyrant to this bonded pair?" – The Burghers, Thomas Hardy_

Strange, isn't it, how silence can be so much more important than words?

Phillip Smythe was to think about that a lot after the fateful day when he discovered his wife Elizabeth's secret. He had never understood Elizabeth, his pretty, puzzling, outspoken little wife. He never dreamed that he ever would understand her. The idea seemed quite ridiculous, to understand a creature such as Elizabeth.

It was late at night as he made his way to her bedchamber. He didn't enjoy bedding her anywhere near as much as he had used to, but sons had to be begotten somehow, daughters would do him no good. He usually warned her if he would be coming to her room, but today he had forgotten to do so. He just hoped she wasn't asleep; it would be a little uncomfortable to have to wake her.

The door was unlocked, an extremely unusual event for his wife, who locked her door because, she claimed, 'I'm terribly scared of some of the men here at court. Any of them could walk in!'. He didn't much like it, but he put up with it.

He put his hand on the door, turning the handle with a soft, barely audible click, in case she was asleep.

But, he soon discovered, she was certainly not asleep.

She and her companion were entirely naked and stood wrapped around each other only inches from the bed. They were kissing feverishly, quite unlike any kiss he had ever shared with her, and she had her hands tangled in his hair. They hadn't seen Phillip, who stood gawping in the doorway. He couldn't get past the shock he felt, even though he knew he should be angry instead. He didn't have the energy for anger. It was only when he heard Elizabeth moan her lover's name against his lips in a way that she had never done with Phillip that he sprang into action.

"George..." she murmured, breaking the kiss, eyes fluttering open. She turned, eyes hazy with pleasure, just in time to see her husband unsheathe the dagger he always wore at his belt. She screamed, jerked back into awareness, and jumped in front of a still-dazed George as if she could protect him.

She didn't say anything; neither did Phillip, neither did George. She stood there, blazing but terrified, determined that no-one, _no-one_, would hurt her George if she had anything to do with it. But George had soon displaced her, darting in front of her and pushing her behind him. She made to protest, but one look from him silenced her. George looked at Phillip. He was completely unable to defend himself; he was the most vulnerable he had ever been, and Phillip was holding a dagger.

George was the first one to speak.

"Don't hurt her"

Phillip stared at him in a blank daze, and dropped the dagger. He looked at Elizabeth, peeping over George's shoulder with fear in her eyes, and he thought. He could see that the two of them loved each other, loved each other impossibly, desired each other in a way that Phillip had never desired any woman. Elizabeth had never looked at him the way she looked at George, never kissed him like that, never whispered his name like that. He may be her husband, but he suddenly realised that he had no hold on her heart. None at all. She had given it away to this man, probably before she had even met her husband.

George looked anxious still, "Don't hurt her. It wasn't her fault, I – I forced her"

Phillip met the young man's eyes, wishing that were true. But Elizabeth was suddenly glaring at her lover, and pushed him aside so she could face both him and her husband.

"Don't make things up to make this look better!" she cried, horrified, "Phillip, husband, he didn't force me. He never has done. It's been of my own free will for a long time. He would never do that. I chose him a long time ago. I'm sorry"

Phillip still didn't, couldn't, say a word. He just stared at the pair of them, still naked and still not looking like they felt a shred of guilt.

And he didn't blame them.

He left, left without saying another word, with his wife and her lover watching him with wide eyes. And he never looked back.

**A/N: Sorry, me again! Phillip seems nice in this. I didn't mean for that to happen. If you hated him, please continue to hate him with my blessing. And please review!**


	90. Sanctuary

**A/N: Hi! I'm updating very quickly, but I decided to write this for Laura, who needs cheering up. I bet you other lovely people that read this are getting sick of the sight of her name, but she's a great friend and I'm worried about her. So there. Please review and thank you for reading!**

_I will find sanctuary in your arms  
I will find sanctuary in your arms  
I will find sanctuary in your open arms  
And I will find sanctuary_

_Wrapped around you_  
_The whole world just disappears_  
_Time stands still when I'm with you_  
_A moment feels like years – Sanctuary, Alex Clare._

Elizabeth bowed her head, on her knees at the altar of the church. It was usually filled with people, nobles and commoners alike, all asking for mercy, forgiveness, power, fame, money, love. But Elizabeth had most of those things, and the things that she didn't have she didn't miss. The church was empty that day, and Elizabeth was glad. No-one could see her tears.

She had just miscarried her third child, and still couldn't quite believe that it had happened. How could she have carried Alice and Margaret with success and then suddenly lose a baby without reason? How could that have happened?

She rose shakily from the ground, staring up at the stained glass windows as though looking for inspiration. When she found none, the tears continued to fall and she wiped them away impatiently. She was beginning to wish she hadn't come alone, to wish she had bought Mary with her, perhaps, or even Anne. She couldn't let George see that she was still grieving, still aching inside.

"Elizabeth?"

She rubbed her eyes hurriedly, not wanting her lover to see her wet eyes. But George had already seen, and did not care. His face softened and he turned her to face him, cupping her face in his hands.

"You don't have to hide it from me" he said gently, lovingly, "My love, you don't have to hide it from me. I'm upset too. I'm angry too. I understand"

"No, you don't. George, what if I can't have another baby? What if something's gone wrong?"

"You said that to me before. You mustn't think like that. There's every reason to believe that we can have other children, perfectly healthy and lovely children just like our girls" he pulled her to him and hugged her, and all of Elizabeth's fears started to melt away, her tears to dry, as her arms tightened around his waist. She buried her face in his shoulder and felt the first smile creep onto her face in days.

"You know, this may be slightly blasphemous, but I find more of a sanctuary in your arms than I do in this church" she murmured, as if fearful that she might be overheard by someone.

George chuckled into her hair, "It's not blasphemous. I feel the same about you" he pulled away a little, looking in her eyes, "As long as we're together, Bess, we can get through anything, you and me. Remember that"

Her smile widened, "Yes. Yes, we can, can't we?" she paused a moment, "I love you so much, George"

"I love you more than anything" George replied, taking her hand, "Come on. You stay close by me and we'll be fine. We'll get through it. And you wait and see – next year, maybe the year after that, you'll have another bonny baby in your arms"

Elizabeth couldn't suppress a giggle of delight, "You really think so?"

"Yes, I do. Come"

And he drew her out into the sunlit town, towards Whitehall palace and towards their future.


	91. Garter

**A/N: Hi! I bought the complete poems of one of my favourite authors, Thomas Hardy, which is where the previous chapter and the next few will have come from. Please review and thank you for reading!**

"_I pitched my day's leazings in Crimmercrock Lane,_

_To tie up my garter and jog on again,_

_When a dear dark-eyed gentleman passed there and said,_

_In a way that made all o' me colour rose-red,_

"_What do I see - _

_O pretty knee!"_

_And he came and he tied up my garter for me" – The Dark-Eyed Gentleman, Thomas Hardy._

Elizabeth Hollington walked briskly along the track that led to Hever. She was fourteen years old and visiting George, who was back on a visit from Oxford university, and a basket full of sweet apples from the orchard swung on her arm.

She halted with a heavy sigh, laying down the basket and looking up and down the track to make sure that there was no-one there. She was no more than five minutes from Hever, but she would have to stop to fix this.

She had torn her last pair of stockings the previous day and had had to borrow a discarded pair of her mother's. Unfortunately, they were much too big for her and kept slipping loose of the garter to roll down her leg. She couldn't meet George in that state.

She flicked her pink skirt up above the knee to adjust the stockings and fit them back into place.

"Oh, damn it all" she muttered, adding a few choice curses that she had heard employed by the servants on various occasions, "Stupid garter. Ugh! I – "

"Well, well, well! What _are_ you doing, little Elizabeth Hollington?"

With a great shriek, Elizabeth let the skirt fall and looked up with wide eyes. She grew crimson as she realised that the amused voice belonged to George, who was strolling down the lane as though he had not a care in the world. His eyes were twinkling.

"George!" she exclaimed, horrified, "Oh, you did scare me! What are you doing here? I was on my way to Hever!"

"I know. I thought I'd walk a little way to meet you and escort you there" he grinned, "I'm glad I did, now. That was a rather pleasant sight"

"George, stop it!" she cried, reddening further, "You are a beast! Now turn away so I can fix this damn garter – sorry, I mean _stupid_ garter – please!"

But George did not move. He was still grinning.

"You don't seem to be having much luck with it, from the amount of cursing you were doing" he observed frankly. She glowered at him.

"Oh, hush! Like you could do any better"

"I'd be willing to give it a go" George offered, bright with mirth. Her jaw was set in stubborn firmness.

"No! You can't. It's not proper"

"Oh, who cares about proper?" he advanced towards her, "Come on. Let me have a try. You don't have to be worried about lifting your skirt up in front of me. I'm a perfect gentleman" he spoke innocently, but Elizabeth caught the mischievous glint in his eye and looked doubtful.

"I still don't think it's proper"

He said nothing, looking at her quite patiently, but not seeming inclined to move away. With a heavy sigh and crimson cheeks, Elizabeth flipped the material of the skirt back to rest at her thigh and looked challengingly at him. With an appreciative glance at her bare leg, George reached out and fixed the garter with a worryingly practiced swiftness. Elizabeth gaped at him.

"How did you do that?!" she exploded, rearranging her skirt, "I've done it six times since this morning and not managed to fix it properly!"

George shrugged casually, "I'm obviously more skilled at tying garters than you are"

"You've tied a lot of garters, then?" Elizabeth asked with narrowed eyes, picking up her basket and straightening. George shrugged again, but looked uncomfortable.

"A couple. But none on a leg so lovely as yours"

Elizabeth couldn't help smiling, "So I win, then?"

"You win" he conceded, "Though I might have to see that leg again, just to be sure..."

She elbowed him hard in the side, laughing incredulously, "George Boleyn!" she linked his arm, still laughing, "You really do have a cheek!"

George grinned at her, eyes sparkling, "Yes, well, I wouldn't get anywhere without it"


	92. In My Place

**A/N: Hi! I do have some more poem-inspired ficlets to write, but I heard this song when I was with Laura and was struck with inspiration! It always happens when I have coffee Please review! Set in Heaven after George's death, but before Elizabeth's. George's POV. Song is In My Place, by Coldplay.**

_In my place, in my place  
Were lines that I couldn't change  
I was lost, oh yeah_

_I was lost, I was lost_  
_Crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed_  
_I was lost, oh yeah_

I had never felt so lonely in my life as I did in my afterlife.

I supposed that I would feel lonely, without my Elizabeth, without my children, but I should not have felt as alone as I did. I shunned company. Even though I was the one that was dead, I was grieving as much as my lover was. I was grieving for the fact that I could no longer be by her side. I avoided my sister Anne, who was so angry about her fate that she wasn't much fun to be around anyway; I even avoided my friends William and Harry, who had died with me. My little daughter needed me, and she was the only one who I kept with me always. Anne's lost children, two boys and a girl, kept her occupied and gave her something to fill the gap left by her only living child, the Princess Elizabeth, and my Lisbeth did the same for me. She relied on me, and it gave me something to work for. But in my heart, I was still lost. Lost and alone.

I watched Elizabeth all day, every day. Lisbeth watched with me, seated on my lap. Elizabeth did not laugh as often as she once did, and the only people she smiled for were our children. She was still beautiful, of course, but the beauty that she possessed now was both great and terrible. Her skin was paler than it used to be, and nightmares kept her awake most of the night, leaving her with permanent black circles under her eyes. She had lost so much weight that her skin now seemed stretched tight across her bony frame.

I waited and waited for her to come to me.

_Yeah how long must you wait for it?_  
_Yeah how long must you pay for it?_  
_Yeah how long must you wait for it?_  
_Oh for it_

_I was scared, I was scared_  
_Tired and under prepared_  
_But I wait for it_

_If you go, if you go_  
_Leave me down here on my own_  
_Then I'll wait for you (yeah)_

The longer I waited, the more my anxieties grew. I saw her the day that she almost slept with another man, a man I had considered to be my friend, and although I understood, it was like a knife to my heart. If any such situations arose again, would she go further? Would my Elizabeth betray me? And could I even consider it a betrayal when I was already dead and she lived? I wasn't sure that I could. But I still did.

I was terrified that one day, she would decide to move on with her life. I was tormented with visions of her finally giving in to Charles, loving him the way she had once loved me, even marrying him and giving my children a new father. Giving my son the father he had never had. If she did marry again, would she want to come back to me? Or would she wait until her new husband died, wait for him as I was waiting for her, and be with him for all eternity instead of me? I couldn't bear the thought. I needed her.

More time passed. Lisbeth grew, beautiful and clever as her mother, flourishing under my care. As she got older, she was the one who started to take care of me. She assured me of her mother's loyalty, her undying love for me, and I started to believe her. I started to gain my confidence back. My Elizabeth would come for me, and in the mean time I had to wait. The waiting was my punishment for all the bad things I had done in life, and only once I had waited would I get my reward.

_Yeah how long must you wait for it?_  
_Yeah how long must you pay for it?_  
_Yeah how long must you wait for it?_  
_Oh for it_

_Sing it, please, please, please_  
_Come back and sing to me, to me, me_  
_Come on and sing it out, now, now_  
_Come on and sing it out, to me, me_  
_Come back and sing it_

But today is my last day of waiting. Today, she is coming to me. Her strength is waning, and although I know it will pain her to leave our children behind, I know she will also be relieved to be with me once again. I know now, as Lisbeth told me, that she will be happy to see me again.

She is going to come back to me, at long last.

I wait for her, waiting to see if she will see me right away.

She envisions our Heaven like the field we used to play in at Hever when we were children. She looks for me, wearing her nightgown which, when she looks down at it, changes into her best scarlet gown. A little smile curves her face, but she is looking around for me, doubtful. Then I hear her mind, calling for me, wanting me. And I am there.

"George!" she cries out my name, the smile making her glow and showing me that she is as beautiful as she ever was. We run to each other; I clasp her in my arms.

"I missed you so much" she gasps, and I feel her tears against my chest.

"You have no idea" I reply, tears choking my own voice, kissing the top of her head.

"You look the same" she murmurs, looking up at me. I caress her face, smoothing the tears away.

"So do you. As beautiful as always" I hesitate, smiling at her, "I thought you might forget me. I thought you might not want me anymore. I was scared"

"I would never, never forget you. I love you too much"

Taking her face between my hands, I pull her towards me and press my lips to hers for the first time in forever.

How could I ever think that she would leave me?

_In my place, in my place_  
_Were lines that I couldn't change_  
_And I was lost, oh yeah, oh yeah_


	93. I Could Have Danced All Night

**A/N: Hi! Yes, yet another songfic from me, because I watched My Fair Lady last night and have been dancing around and singing this song all day. I love it. PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you. Elizabeth's POV**.

_Bed! Bed! I couldn't go to bed!  
My head's too light to try to set it down! Sleep!  
Sleep!  
I couldn't sleep tonight.  
Not for all the jewels in the crown!_

I twirl around the room, the snowy white cotton of my long nightgown floating around me. I am fourteen years old and exquisitely beautiful, or so everyone tells me. I have never believed them; but tonight I am giddy with joy, reliving the night over and over again. I have just danced with George Boleyn, the boy I have loved for as long as I could remember, for the first time.

"Eliza! _Elizabeth_! BED!" my mother hollers; I suppose that even though I feel my footsteps are as light as feathers, she can still hear me moving around.

"I _am _in bed, mother!" I call in return, watching myself pirouette in the mirror's reflection. Aurora will sneak in as soon as our mother and the maids are abed, and I cannot wait to discuss the night's events with her.

Oh, I couldn't sleep even if I tried! I don't know if I shall ever sleep again. I _am_ glad that our first dance, our first _ever_ dance, was a Volte.

_I could have danced all night!  
I could have danced all night!  
And still have begged for more.  
I could have spread my wings  
And done a thousand things I've never done before. _

_I'll never know What made it so exciting;  
Why all at once _

_My heart took flight. _

_I only know when he  
Began to dance with me_

_I could have danced, danced, danced all night! _

I was wearing my best dress, a gown of dusky pink damask with little rosebuds lining the neckline. The neckline was low and daring, for Aurora and I had agreed that we wanted to look our best. Aurora fashioned my hair with real rosebuds to match the gown, letting my hair fall in soft ringlets kept in place with lashings of rosewater. She looked beautiful herself, in a gown of pale blue to match her eyes, a circlet of pearls in her hair.

When I got down to the hall where the party was being thrown, to celebrate the marriage of my mother's cousin to George's distant cousin. Of course, the Boleyns were our guests of honour, but with Anne and Mary away in France, George was their only representative. The moment I saw him standing there in his midnight blue doublet, his handsome face warming as he looked at me, I thought I might faint from delight. He greeted Aurora first with a pleasant smile, but she had soon twirled off to greet the Wyatt children, leaving George and I alone.

"Mistress Hollington" he smiled, kissing my hand as though we were adults at court, "You look extremely lovely this evening"

I smiled back at him, "You look rather dashing yourself. And you may call me Elizabeth, you know that"

"Bess?" he queried instead, eyes dancing cheekily.

My smile widened into a grin, "If you like"

"Do you dance, Bess?" he inquired lightly, "I do believe they are about to play a Volte"

I tried to hide my excitement. Not only did I relish the idea of being so close to George as we would be if we danced a Volte, that most erotic of dances, it was also my best dance.

"I do dance. I have been told that the Volte is my best" I said sweetly, taking his proffered arm. He looked pleased.

"Then let us see how true that is"

_I could have danced all night!_  
_I could have danced all night!_  
_And still have begged for more._  
_I could have spread my wings_  
_And done a thousand things I've never done before._

_I'll never know What made it so exciting.  
Why all at once my heart took flight._

_I only know when he  
Began to dance with me.  
I could have danced, danced, danced all night! _

He took me in his arms, curving my body close to his as the Volte dictates. He fixed his eyes on mine, and all the laughter was gone from his face and mine. The dance was suddenly very, very important to both of us.

We spun, stomped, clapped, and soon the pair of us were smiling, and when he twirled me we were laughing. Then we came to the part of the dance where he rested his hands either side of my slender waist and lifted my up in the air, spinning while he held me up. I felt as though I was flying, my heart was flying, and I wanted the moment never to end. But the music was drawing to it's close.

George started to move me down to the floor, sliding me down the length of his body until my toes touched the floor. The applause began for all the dancing couples, but George and I were fixed on the spot, eyes boring into each other, both beaming with joy. I could still feel every inch of his body against mine, but I didn't blush as I ought to have done.

"You're a wonderful dancer" he said with a roughness to his voice that had not been there before. I smiled slightly, demurring.

"Thank you"

"Would you like to dance another?" his voice was full of hope, and I felt a surge of triumph rush through me.

"Yes" I agreed breathlessly, "Yes, I would"

_I could have danced all night,  
I could have danced all night.  
And still have begged for more. _

_I could have spread my wings,  
And done a thousand things I've never done before.  
I'll never know What made it so exciting.  
Why all at once my heart took flight._

"Elizabeth?" Aurora peers around the door that joins our two bedchambers and I open my eyes, jerked out of the memory. I am still twirling, so much so that I feel dizzy. She laughs when she sees me and enters the room.

"You made a lovely couple" she tells me, eyes twinkling mischievously because she knows it's what I want to hear. My eyes glitter as I turn to her.

"You think so?"

"I know so. Everyone said so"

"Oh, Rora!" I grab her hands and spin her around the room with me, until she is laughing with happiness for me. We dance around the room in our nightclothes, heads flung back, hair bouncing around us, "I could have danced with him all night!"

_I only know when he  
Began to dance with me_

_I could have danced, danced, danced All night!_


	94. It's All Coming Back To Me Now

**A/N: Yes, yet another songfic, even though I have tons of poemfics planned! I hope you like it – I actually really don't like Celine Dion, but I think the lyrics of this song are great and when Lea Michele sung it on Glee I was absolutely blown away. This chapter might get a little...suggestive. Hi Laura! Song is It's All Coming Back To Me Now by Celine Dion/Lea Michele. Whichever one you like better. Set just after Elizabeth's death - yet again! I'm being very unoriginal lately.**

_There were nights when the wind was so cold  
That my body froze in bed  
If I just listened to it right outside the window_

_There were days when the sun was so cruel  
That all the tears turned to dust  
And I just knew my eyes were drying up forever_

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly, waiting. She knew that George would come for her. He had been waiting for her, she had felt it. All those icy nights, cold without his warm arms around her, when the wind had seemed to howl around her in his voice, in Anne's voice, in the voices of all of those that had been lost. She felt a shiver just thinking about it, and wrapped her arms around herself. She called for him in her mind. She would not open her eyes until she heard his voice again.

Even when summer came, and bought warmth, she had felt empty. The sun had once made her smile, but without George around smiling was really rather painful. By summer her tears had been harder and harder to force out, and she wondered if maybe she had cried so much for him that she could never cry again.

"Elizabeth!"

His lovely warm voice, full of joy and love and everything she had hoped to hear. Her eyes opened.

They were in the gardens of Hever, the castle looming up just down the path. Golden and green blades of grass reached up to brush at her waist. And George stood there, in her favourite of his doublets, the midnight blue that she had embroidered herself, and he was smiling. There were tears in her eyes, and when she ran to him and their lips touched she felt happier than she could remember feeling in the longest time.

_I finished crying in the instant that you left  
And I can't remember where or when or how  
And I banished every memory you and I had ever made_

_When you touch me like this  
And you hold me like that  
I just have to admit  
That it's all coming back to me_

When they broke apart, she reached out to touch the wetness at her eyes and looked at it with wonder.

"I haven't cried for years. I thought I'd used up all my tears on you"

George smiled, wiping the rest of the tears away for her, "You were so brave"

"I had to get rid of my memories of us, because they hurt too much. It stopped me crying if I banished every thought of you" the tears stopped, and a smile brighter than sunshine blossomed over her lovely face, "They're coming back to me now. I missed you so much"

"I missed you impossibly" he replied gently, "And I like the place that you've chosen for our reunion"

Elizabeth's smile faltered, dashed with confusion, "I chose? What do you mean?"

"Heaven is what you imagine it to be" he told her, taking her hand and leading her through the fields towards the castle of their childhood, "And Hever is clearly what you want your Heaven to be like"

"What's your Heaven like, then?" she asked curiously, swinging their joined hands like a pendulum, full of exuberance.

"I haven't had a proper Heaven until now, because my Heaven was incomplete" he lightly kissed her cheek, voice full of tenderness, "But now that it is complete, it just proves that you and I are a perfect match. Hever is my Heaven, too"

Elizabeth squeezed his hand, "Good. I'm glad you still have what you wanted"

"I like your choice of gown, too" he eyed her up and down with a twinkle in his eye long forgotten but now familiar to her all over again, "That red always made me want you"

To her amazement, Elizabeth felt an uncomfortable twist in her stomach and a blush colour her cheeks. She was nervous! But what had she expected to happen? How long had she been waiting for the moment when they could be together again, and now she was spoiling it with foolish nerves!

She summoned up a smile, cursing the ridiculous anxiety she felt, "I'm glad"

_When I touch you like this_  
_And I hold you like that_  
_It's so hard to believe but_  
_It's all coming back to me_

_There were moments of gold_  
_And there were flashes of light_  
_There were things I'd never do again_  
_But then they'd always seemed right_

They reached the doorway to the castle, and Elizabeth felt a warmth settle over her, realising that it was because she was finally home. George's hand traced small circles on the back of her hand as he held it and guided her up the stone steps. For a moment, Elizabeth closed her eyes again, and she remembered.

She remembered all the nights she and George had spent together. She remembered him carrying her up these very steps with his laugh ringing in her ears. She remembered their dances, their discussions, their children...their love. She remembered all the things they had done wrong in the name of Anne, the Reformation and their love. And she remembered how right those things had felt. How much she loved him.

And the nervous coil in her belly started to turn into a warmth, a glow that spread through her entire body and made her suddenly feel like nothing could ever go wrong again.

Like she was ready.

_If I kiss you like this_  
_And if you whisper like that_  
_It was lost long ago_  
_But it's all coming back to me_

_If you want me like this_  
_And if you need me like that_  
_It was dead long ago_  
_But it's all coming back to me_

They reached the chamber that they had always occupied, Elizabeth shutting the door behind them out of habit rather than necessity. This made George laugh, and he drew her close to him. His hands traced the shape of her face, finishing by stroking the outline of her lips and leaning in to kiss her again. Elizabeth responded with enthusiasm.

"You do know, don't you, that I'm going to want to savour this?" George murmured, brushing back her hair to kiss her ear as he whispered. Elizabeth sighed softly and giggled.

"Oh, yes. I do, too"

She felt the familiar spark, that long-dead flame, burst into life and moved closer to him, her kisses insistent, loving, remembering. His hands reached down to the laces at the front of her gown, brushing against her skin as he untied the laces, ever so slowly, remembering.

"I still want you" he told her softly, "I still want you so badly"

A smile of joy and triumph and overwhelming love lit up her face, "Me too. Oh George, me too"

_It's so hard to resist  
And it's all coming back to me  
I can barely recall  
But it's all coming back to me now_


	95. Piano

**A/N: Hi! This is quick updating, isn't it? Anyway, I'm actually going back to the Hardy poems now, so I really hope you enjoy this one. Set when Elizabeth is about fourteen and George fifteen, even though the age gap between them is bigger than that. It's a bit AU. Very AU, considering proper pianos like the one I'm thinking of didn't exist! Please review! George's POV. And hello Laura :D**

_A woman was playing,_

_A man looking on;_

_And the mould of her face, _

_And her neck, and her hair,_

_Which the rays fell upon_

_Of the two candles there,_

_Sent him mentally straying_

_In some fancy-place_

_Where pain had no trace. – At the Piano, Thomas Hardy._

"Play for us, Bessie, do!" Aurora tugged at Elizabeth's hands, her face bright with enthusiasm. Colouring, Elizabeth looked from me to the piano and shook her head, russet curls swinging.

"Oh, no, I can't!" she protested, still looking at me. I smiled at her.

"Go on. I haven't seen you play since the schoolroom, I'd love to hear how you've improved"

The colour in her cheeks ripened further, but she nodded, moving towards the piano with an awkward grace that made me smile. She threw a fleeting glance at me, settling herself on the seat, the teal silk of her gown fanning out around her slender body.

"Will you turn the pages for me?"

"Of course" rising from my seat, I moved to join her, and watched, mesmerised, as she began to play.

Elizabeth had always been a skilled pianist, but I had not seen her play for many years and she had clearly improved. Her long white fingers flew across the keys without missing a single note, the melody a familiar one that the two of us had sang in childhood. The plea of a maiden to her lover.

"Oh never leave me, Oh don't deceive me" I murmured quietely, humming the tune under my breath. Her eyes flicked up to mine, sparkling, and she beamed with joy that I remembered. Even when looking at me rather than the piano keys she still didn't falter, but had soon ducked her head back down again to hide a blush.

Now that she wasn't looking at me, I found that my eyes were drawn away from her flying fingers to focus on the rest of her instead. At her plump rosy cheeks and the chiselled jaw that I could clearly imagine tracing with my lips. At _her_ lips, cherry red and full and looking quite ready to kiss. At the slender, pale curve of her swan's neck. I could picture myself kissing that too, could almost taste her skin...

"George?" she halted, looking up at me quizzically, "The page?"

I felt the heat glow in my own cheeks, and, apologising profusely, quickly turned the page for her. Still looking puzzled by my lack of concentration, she continued to play. Despite myself, I was drawn back into my reverie. This time I focused on her hair, glowing in the candlelight, red as the flame it reflected, silky and curling and looking soft enough to run my fingers through...

"George!" I was jerked out of the dream once more, out of a world where Elizabeth and I were together and there was no pain or hurt or sadness. Just us.

She was staring up at me, looking exasperated, "I've finished, George. You're standing in my way. I can't get out of my seat"

"Oh! Sorry" I moved quickly out of the way, and caught her once again scrutinising me incredulously. There was a polite smattering of applause from the gathered guests who registered that she had finished playing, but Elizabeth had only eyes for me.

"What's wrong with you?" she looked hurt, "Did you even listen to me playing?"

"I got...distracted" I confessed, feeling the heat in my face again. This had been the wrong thing to say; she scowled, looking even more upset.

"You _asked _me to play, and then you didn't listen! That isn't very gentlemanly, nor is it courteous" she made to storm away from me, and succeeded, moving out of one of the arches of her family's great hall and into the garden. Aurora, wide-eyed, went to go after her, but I stopped her, stricken.

"Bess! Don't be angry. I didn't mean to upset you"

She was still glaring at him, "I don't think it was fair of you to ignore me"

"I wasn't ignoring you! Quite the opposite. I was thinking rather too much about you. I was distracted thinking about _you_, not your piano playing! Which, by the way, was magnificent"

She seemed placated, but still confused, "What were you thinking about me?"

"I was thinking about how much I would like to do this" I said abruptly, and leaned in to kiss her. Too stunned to respond, she stayed frozen, and when I drew back her eyes were wide open.

"What else were you thinking about?" she whispered, still shocked. I grinned.

"About this" I ran my fingertips through her hair, feeling every soft knot and curl, "And this" I brushed the hair back and pressed my lips along her jawline, "And this" finally, I moved my lips to travel down her neck, not halting until I reached where her dress was cut. When I looked back at her face, she was breathing heavily and flushed a pretty shade of pink.

"Was that all?" she asked, suddenly smiling. I smirked back.

"Maybe there was a little bit more"

"Really? And when are you planning on showing me that?"

I put my hands either side of her waist and drew her to me, "Whenever you like"


	96. What Men Want

**A/N: Hi! So, this idea is due to some inspiration from Laura and my own crazy mind running away with that inspiration. So thank you Laura! Set sometime in Elizabeth and George's teenage years.**

_I wasn't jealous before we met  
Now every woman I see is a potential threat  
And I'm possessive, it isn't nice..._

_Don't go wasting your emotion__  
__Lay all your love on me__  
__Don't go sharing your__ devotion  
Lay all your love on me – Lay all your love on me, ABBA._

Elizabeth hummed to herself as she strolled through the market in the very centre of London town. She shouldn't have been there without an escort, but escorts always slowed her down – or, if they were male, tried to kiss her – and she wasn't in the mood for either of those things. A little basket of her purchases swung on her arm – six lengths of ribbon in varying colours to be divided between herself and Aurora, and a little packet of seed pearls to be sown onto a French hood. She just wanted some apples, and then she'd be ready to return to her family's London house.

As she turned the corner, Elizabeth ducked her head to avoid looking at the bawdy house she knew was there. She hated seeing the lecherous types that staggered in and out of those places, and she especially hated looking at the women with their gaudily painted faces, low cut gowns and simpering smiles.

But at the same time, she was also a very innocent and very curious fifteen year old girl who wanted to know just what was going on. She glanced sideways, peeking out from under her thick red hair, and got the biggest shock of her life so far.

"GEORGE!" she shrieked, hardly troubling to keep her voice down or her face covered. A combination of fury, inexpressible sadness and deepest hurt roiled in the pit of her belly.

George froze on the steps coming out of the place, clearly stunned and horrified to see her there. He looked worryingly dishevelled. People roaming the streets were staring at them with interest.

"GET DOWN HERE!" she knew she sounded like some nagging harpy, but George did as she desired and came running to her. Hot tears burned in her eyes.

"Bess, Elizabeth, I'm so sorry! You shouldn't have had to see me like this, I didn't think for a moment that you ever would –"

"WHY were you in there?" she cried, hating how wobbly her voice had gone, "George, what were you _doing_? Please tell me there's a very good reason that has nothing to do with whores!"

He shuffled uncomfortably, he could not meet her eyes, "I'm sorry"

She gasped, and the tears started to fall, tears that made a flicker of puzzlement cross George's face.

"Why are you crying?"

"Oh, how _could_ you go into a place like _that,_ with _those_ women! Why, George?!"

People were starting to lose interest in the hysterical redhead and her handsome, sheepish companion, continuing with their daily tasks. George tried to grab Elizabeth's hands, but she yanked them away with disgust.

"Don't you dare touch me, not after you've been in there! Tell me why, George. Now!"

George dragged his gaze to hers, looking as though it pained him to do so, "We men...we...this is very difficult to explain"

"Explain" she said sharply, wiping impatiently at her tears.

"We go only go in there to...to satisfy ourselves if...if...we cannot have the woman we really want"

Elizabeth gawped at him, speechless. Suddenly, a woman, clearly one of the whores, came running out of the brothel and tapped George on the shoulder. Elizabeth gave a little cry of horror and stared at the woman with wide eyes.

It was her.

Not exactly like her, of course, but they both had red hair, blue eyes and porcelain skin. This woman was scrawnier and definitely older, but there was no mistaking the similarities.

"You left this" said the whore, not as brashly as Elizabeth had expected her to act, and ran off after pressing something into George's palm. George looked at Elizabeth, holding whatever the item was in his fist.

"Now do you understand?" he asked quietely. Elizabeth found herself unable to speak above a whisper.

"Me?"

"Yes. You're the woman I cannot have. You're the woman I go to that place to forget" his voice was bitter and filled with a pain she had not expected.

Tears drying up at the hurt in his voice, Elizabeth reached out to grab the hands that she had just shunned, and unclasped his fist.

"What's that?" she breathed.

"I bought it for you. I've been trying to pluck up the courage to give it to you for weeks. I was going to come and see you tonight. Jane's sick of me calling her Elizabeth"

Elizabeth coloured at the implications of his remark and reached out to take the trinket. It was a necklace, and a heart-shaped ruby hung from it, catching the light. She gasped.

"Oh George, it's beautiful..."

"The symbol of a virtuous woman" he told her wryly, gesturing to the ruby, "That's why I chose it"

"Then you...you desire me?" Elizabeth's voice faltered over the unfamiliarity of saying such a thing to George, and blushed further when he chuckled mirthlessly.

"You don't know the half of it"

"Then tell me" she pleaded, grabbing his hands again, the chain of the necklace threaded through her fingers.

"I just...I need you. Have you never felt that way? Is it just me? Because if it is..."

"I've felt like that" Elizabeth blurted out the confession in a rush, cheeks now flaming, "You wouldn't believe some of the dreams I've had about you"

George grinned slowly, "Oh, I would. I imagine I've had something similar"

"You should have said something" she reproached softly. Letting go of his hands, she turned away from him and brushed her hair aside so that he could fasten the necklace round her neck. She heard his breathing quicken and felt a tingling rush through her body when he touched her bare skin. He quickly smoothed her hair back into place.

"It hurts that I cannot have you" he told her urgently, "That's the only reason I go into that dreadful place, I swear it"

"You've never asked me" she said slowly, hesitant. George did not understand; he frowned at her.

"Never asked you what?"

"If you can have me"

Understanding and disbelief dawned on George's face. He stared at her.

"You mean...I only had to ask?"

In the middle of the cobbled street, slick with mud and rain, Elizabeth flew at him, arms closing tight around his neck, and kissed him as her answer.


	97. Ambition

**A/N: Going back to my Thomas Hardy poems, at long last! Please review, I haven't had any for AGES. And hi Laura :p George's POV.**

_"But if thy object Fame's far summits be,_

_Whose inclines many a skeleton overlies_

_That missed both dream and substance, stop and see_

_How absence wears these cheeks and dims these eyes!" – Her Reproach, Thomas Hardy._

"Elizabeth!" I rush towards her, holding my arms out, expecting her to fly into them after my long absence. But she does not. She sits, arms folded, in a chair before the fire, and does not move her eyes from the crackling flames. My arms fall slowly, reluctantly, to my sides.

"Bess?" I advanced towards her warily, and regretted it when she looked up at me. Her eyes were blazing with what I knew to be a terrible anger. I took a step backwards. She rose from her seat, smoothing down her skirt, plastering a smile onto her face.

"Did you have a nice trip?" she asked, far too sweetly. I looked cautiously at her.

"Yes...I missed you, of course"

"Did you?" there was a hint of sarcastic surprise in her voice, "That's nice"

"Did you...miss me?" I asked tentatively. Elizabeth snorted.

"Look, I'm just going to come out with it. Why did you not tell me that you _volunteered_ to go to the court of France for three months?"

"Oh. That"

"Yes, that. You told me you had been forced into it by Anne and the King. It was only today that Anne told me the truth"

"She was lying"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, mouth set into a grim line, "Don't make this worse for yourself, George. Why did you not tell me?"

"I – I thought you'd be upset"

"I'm upset that you didn't tell me" there was a flash of hurt in her eyes, coming through the anger, "Did you want rid of me that desperately?"

"No!" I exclaimed, horrified, "No, of course not! I just wanted to...I wanted to see France"

"Why didn't you just tell me that? I would have understood, you know how much I want to travel"

"Fine" I said at last, squirming, "It wasn't because I wanted to see France. It was a good opportunity. I thought that if I could prove useful to the King in this, he might Knight me"

"Or make you a permanent Ambassador? Take you away from me even more often?"

"Yes, but not like that! I wouldn't have gone away!"

"You would have turned it down?"

"Well...yes"

"No, you wouldn't. As usual, your damned ambition, your desire for fame, gets in the way of everything, just like with Anne! You were willing to leave me for weeks in order to gain wealth?! That isn't what love is about, George!"

"It isn't _like_ that!" I yelped, "I just wanted the opportunity to be great! You always take these things the wrong way!"

"That's because I don't like it when you put your ambitions above me! Have you thought about the fact that while you're swanning around the world, I'm getting older, George! I'm lonely without you here, my heart aches for you, my body aches for you, and then when you return I'm just that little bit older and less desirable and those French whores begin to look a little younger and a whole lot more desirable!"

I could suddenly understand her fear all too well. I moved towards her, reaching out for her hands. She still looked angry, but she didn't pull away. I rubbed circles with my thumbs on her skin, soothing her. When she finally met my eyes, the fire in hers had dimmed a little.

"I'm scared of you leaving and never coming back" she told me quietly, "Or returning and discovering that you don't want me anymore"

"THAT is never going to happen" I promised fiercely, "You will always be beautiful to me, Bess, because you're mine. I need you"

"Then you won't volunteer to leave me again?"

"No. No, of course I won't. Never"


	98. Red

**A/N: Also included in my songfic collab with Lady Eleanor Boleyn. Song is Red by Taylor Swift, set after George's death. Several years after George's death, actually. Hi Laura! Please review.**

_Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street  
Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly  
Loving him is like trying to change your mind once you're already flying  
through the free fall  
Like the colors in autumn so bright just before they lose it all_

"What is it like, Mama?"

Elizabeth looked up from her lap, where a pair of torn breeches lay. She was mending them for her young son who, in his usual devil-may-care way, had gone skidding into a pile of brambles the previous day and shredded the breeches to pieces. Alice, a lovely young woman of seventeen years old and her eldest child, was supposed to be helping, but she had been ditzy and distracted all day, frequenting longing glances out the window. Margaret had been scheduled to help too, but she was off somewhere with some boy from the village. Elizabeth dared not ask too many questions of her frivolous, stunning second child.

"What is what like, darling?"

Alice sat with her face cupped between her hands, as though to cover up a blush. Her eyes were dreamy, wistful.

"Being in love"

Elizabeth laid down the needle and thread, looking over at her daughter, "That depends on who you fall in love with"

Alice laid down her needle and thread, mimicking her mother's actions exactly, even pausing to smooth out her skirt as she did so, "What was being in love like for you?"

Elizabeth smiled; dreaminess had now entered her own gaze, the memories flashing through her mind, tinged with a desperate longing for the past that she could never have, "Wonderful"

"Tell me about it"

Elizabeth looked over at Alice with unfocused eyes. She could not see the present. She could only see the past.

She saw George – his laugh, his smile, his dancing eyes, the way a curl of dark hair flopped stubbornly over his forehead no matter how often he pushed it away. She felt him twirling her in a dance, tasted his kisses, felt the swooping sensation in her belly that had arrived on the occasions when he picked her up and flung her onto their bed. She saw the two of them in her mind's eye, twirling through the Great Hall, a dozen Great Halls, in a blur of different colours – emerald green, royal blue, butter yellow, rose pink...blood red.

"How can I?" she murmured, mostly to herself and only partly in answer to her daughter's demand, "How can I ever hope to put it into words?"

_Losing him was blue, like I'd never known_  
_Missing him was dark gray, all alone_  
_Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met_  
_But loving him was red_  
_Loving him was red_

"Try" Alice pleaded.

Elizabeth tried to hold onto the colours, tried to hold onto him, but already her mind was descending into the darkness of losing him, into the abyss left by his absence, into the dull grey world that he had left for her. She remembered sitting in the dark, not wanting any colour if she couldn't have George, trying to forget him. Trying to forget everything about him. But how can you forget everything you've ever known? How can you forget the other half of you?

_Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in  
front of you  
Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old  
favorite song  
Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing  
there's no right answer_

She thought of the feel of his hands on her skin, his lips on hers, his fingers brushing through her hair, the way her blood fizzed and bubbled in her veins whenever he put his hands on her waist to dance.

"Sensual" she said, without thinking about the fact that her daughter was right there with her, "Passionate"

Alice kept quiet, waiting for more, letting her mother think. Because of course, Elizabeth could remember him so well. Better than anyone else who had known him. Better than his own sister, even. Because she knew every inch of him, inside and out, always had done, always would do. By the time he was gone she had even known how to win a fight with him, knowledge she had never hoped to gain. They fought in riddles, fire in their voices, ice in their eyes. Their fights burned. Their nights burned. Everything was fire, with them.

"Fiery. Angry. But...knowingly"

_Regretting him was like_  
_Wishing you never found out that love could be that long_  
_Losing him was blue, like I'd never known_  
_Missing him was dark gray, all alone_  
_Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met_  
_But loving him was red, oh red, burning red_

She remembered trying to regret him, in the dark days after his death. Regret and forget, that was her aim. She thought of all the bad times they had been through, to make her regret the relationship, but she could not regret loving him. The good times so far outweighed the bad. For every row there had been a night of lovemaking. For every week they stopped speaking had been a day holding their children in her arms. For every bit of bitter envy and searing rage there was pure happiness and unadulterated love.

"Perfectly balanced"

_Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes_  
_Tell myself it's time now gotta let go_  
_But moving on from him is impossible when I still see it all in my head_  
_in burning red_  
_Burning, it was red_

"You don't forget him, do you, Mama?"

Elizabeth pulled out of her reverie with effort, "No. Surely you don't?"

"Of course not"

"Then why did you need to ask what love feels like?"

"Because the love I have for my father is different for the love I would have for my husband" Alice tilted her head to one side, "What was loving him like, Mama, in one word?"

Elizabeth looked out of the window into the garden. She could see Margaret walking hand in hand with a boy from the village. From a distance, they looked like her and George had when they were young, walking in the fields of Hever. She could see her young son George playing with Eric and Elena, the three of them looking a little like George, Thomas and Mary. She closed her eyes and pictured her lover's face one more time. A little smile curved her lips.

"Red" she told her daughter, opening her eyes and smiling, "Loving him was red"

_Losing him was blue, like I'd never known_  
_Missing him was dark gray, all alone_  
_Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met_  
_Cause loving him was red, yeah yeah red, burning red_

_And that's why he's spinning around in my head_  
_Comes back to me in burning red_

_Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street_


	99. The Letter

**A/N: HI LAURA! This is a little present for my friend Laura as she's been on holiday for two weeks and I've missed her. Scene between Elizabeth and Aurora before they go to court. Please review!**

_Her soul is in th' absorbing task;_

_To whom, then, doth she write?_

_Nay, watch her still more closely, ask_

_Her own eyes' serious light;_

_Where do they turn, as now her pen_

_Hangs o'er th' unfinished line? – The Letter, Charlotte Bronte._

Aurora peered over the top of the book she was reading to look over at her cousin. From her position on the window seat, book resting on her knees, she could see Elizabeth hunched over at their desk. She was scratching away furiously with her quill, brow furrowed in concentration. Quite suddenly, she stopped, twirling the quill between her fingertips and chewing lightly on the feather. A smile spread across her lips, wistful and hopeful, as she gazed out of the window, eyes fixed on the outline of Hever castle in the near distance.

"Bessie?"

"Hmn?" Elizabeth turned her head, just slightly, looking a little irked at being disrupted. There was a curious light in Aurora's eyes that she knew did not bode well.

"Who are you writing to?"

A flush coloured Elizabeth's cheeks, but the smile, maddeningly mysterious, still sat on her lips, "No-one"

"You wouldn't smile like that if you were writing to no-one" Aurora said sternly, laying down the book and rising from the seat, "Tell me!"

"No" Elizabeth's eyes were twinkling by this time, "It's a secret"

"But, Bessie! You tell me everything. Do you have a beau you haven't told me about?"

"Don't be ridiculous. How would I have found a beau? We're always stuck in this house" exasperation was plain in her voice, something that Aurora understood. They both hated the fact that they were not yet at court, that they never seemed to meet any men and therefore had no chance of catching a husband. But it had always upset Elizabeth more than her cousin, who was sure that they would attend court one day. Elizabeth, in her melodramatic way, insisted that they would stay at Hollington House for all their days and eventually die there.

"Then why are you being so secretive? And why do you have that silly smile on your face?"

Elizabeth tried to look solemn, "What silly smile?"

Aurora lunged towards the desk and grabbed the parchment. Elizabeth shrieked, trying to grab it from her hands, the two of them dashing around the room, Aurora reading the letter aloud in a sickly, sentimental tone, full of teasing and merriment.

"_Dearest George_ – ooh, dearest? How daring! – _I am so glad to hear that you are well, and that Mary is happy and in good health_ – do try to be a bit more exciting, Elizabeth – _I must confess that I am not in good health; I am sick in heart and body_ – ooh, very good – _and must admit that my heart is aching for you since we have been apart for so lo_ – "

Elizabeth gave a shriek of protest and grabbed the letter at last, the parchment tearing in two as she did so. The pair of them froze as the paper fluttered to the floor. Aurora looked guiltily up at Elizabeth.

"I'm sorry, Bessie, I didn't know – "

"It's alright" Elizabeth did not look upset; in fact, a mischievous grin was spreading across her face, a sheepish light in her eyes, "So now you know. What do you think – am I in with a chance?"

Aurora grinned back, linked Elizabeth's arm, "Oh, undoubtedly. When we're at court, he won't be able to keep his hands off of you"

They both giggled, "That is what I was hoping for" Elizabeth replied with a wink, and the two of them collapsed into laughter.


	100. Mary's Song: Part 1

**A/N: Hey! I know it's been a long time, but I have returned to fanfiction with a bang, partly out of guilt...Laura will be very happy to see this updated, and I hope many more of you will, too! So I'm planning a series of about 7 ficlets based on a happier version of Elizabeth and George's lives – what I wish it had been like for them! These are all based around Mary's Song (Oh My My My) by the amazing Taylor Swift. Reviews would be amazing!**

_She said,  
I was seven and you were nine  
I looked at you like the stars that shined  
In the sky,  
The pretty lights  
And our daddies used to joke about the two of us  
Growing up and falling in love and our mamas smiled  
And rolled their eyes  
And said oh, my, my, my_

_Take me back to the house in the backyard tree_  
_Said you'd beat me up, you were bigger than me_  
_You never did,_  
_You never did..._

"Come back here!"

"George, no...no, I didn't mean to tell!"

Seven-year-old Elizabeth Hollington was running through the tall reeds and sheaves of golden corn in the fields of Hever castle, running from a slender dark-haired boy with a rather heavy wooden sword.

"But you did tell!"

"Simonette made me, George, honest!" she called back over her shoulder; he was getting closer. A small part of her wanted him to catch her; she enjoyed their rough-and-tumble playfights. But another part knew that he really was angry with her this time, and probably meant it when he threatened to hit her with his wooden sword. Her father hit her sometimes, across the back of her knees with his horse-whip – it always made her cry. She didn't want to cry in front of George, and she didn't want to hate him like she hated her father. With this thought in mind, she ran a little faster.

"If Simonette tells Father I shall hit you twice!"

"She won't, George, she _promised_"

"And you promised not to tell" her nine-year-old best friend caught up with her at last, catching the trailing sleeve of a threadbare red gown. Elizabeth whimpered in fear when she turned to look at him- where was Anne when she needed her? Anne would have soon stopped George hitting her.

But when she looked at him, looked at him closely, his eyes were bright with mirth. The wooden sword swung limply in his hand, no longer looking like a weapon at all. Her small frame sank with relief.

"I wasn't really going to hit you, Bessie" George said, noticing her relief and looking hurt, "I was only playing"

"I'm sorry I told, George"

"I didn't mean to ruin that suit of armour, you know"

"I know. But it's nearly _three hundred_ years old" Elizabeth's eyes were round as saucers as she said this; the idea of something lasting three hundred years seemed quite phenomenal to her youthful, impressionable mind.

"Yes, but it's only a _little_ bit broken. And anyway, it's already got those scratches on it...so Father shan't really mind" he sounded doubtful, as though trying to convince himself. Elizabeth squeezed his small hand in her smaller one.

"It's alright. I shall tell him I did it, if he shouts at you. I promise"

George's eyes grew wide, "Really?"

Elizabeth was very scared of Thomas Boleyn; everytime he came to visit Hever, she trembled almost as much as Mary did. But she nodded anyway.

"Yes"

George beamed at her. She could see the wheels of his mind turning, trying to think of some way to thank her.

"Here" he held up the wooden sword for her, "I know you like it. I can get another one any time I like. You can have this one"

Elizabeth's eyes shone with delight, "Oh! Can I really, George?"

George patted her shoulder as though he were a gracious night bestowing a favour upon his Lady, "Of course. I promise"


End file.
